


Show me that you’re human, you won’t break

by QueenofFennoscandia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Angst, Dark, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles, POV Stiles, Past emotional / psychological abuse, Pining, Romance, Runaway, Runaway Stiles, Runes, Sad, Slow Build, Spark, Spark Stiles, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles hasn't met his real father - yet, Stilinski Family Feels, Tattooed Stiles, Tattoos, Tragedy, Trust Issues, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 65,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofFennoscandia/pseuds/QueenofFennoscandia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was finally out. He actually escaped and was safe for now. He could see the empty buss coming along the road. He stopped humming Let it Go from Frozen because wow, apparently that was what he has been doing. 'Oh my god, try to behave like the normal people for once.' He got in and found good seat. Stiles watched out of the buss window, and he knew that he would not come back without screaming and kicking. Snow was hitting against the glass as he took the final glance of the City he could not hate more.</p><p>"So long, motherfuckers," he said quietly, grinning, like the insane person he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Run

**Author's Note:**

> So hi,
> 
> This is my first fic I've ever posted.  
> It's about Stiles who has had enough of being used by some asholes. He says "the hell with it" and puts his awesome research skills to use. He finds out that he might not be as alone as he has thought. It's time to leave and go to this weird ass town called Beacon Hills. ALSO, who the hell is that frighteningly attractive guy with those ridiculous cheekbones and eyebrows? This might need some more researching...  
> Oh, and please don't mind the typos or spelling mistakes because I don't (actually I do and I'll propably fix some things later on). I do have the foreigner card, so hush (please don't you can say whatever you want). I'm going to add some more tags later on.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ _

 

 _Tonight,_ Stiles thought as he closed his bedroom door. _Tonight I'm going to get the fuck out from this mess. I swear to god, this is it._

Stiles has been living in a foster home since his mother died eight years ago. They make him do stuff with his abilities, bad stuff. Or at least they try, oh do they try. The spark that is inside of him wants to be free. He wants to be free. He craves it, he needs it and tonight he is going to have it.

Stiles has been planning this for ages. He has been stealing some of his own files from his 'keepers', making plans and preparing everything.

This all happened after he figured out that his biological father was very much alive. That was when he decided that he could do this. Still, he is not too hopeful. Maybe that person knows about Stiles. Maybe he does not want him around. Maybe he is part of this great big misery that surrounds Stiles. He could be a fucking mad man. If so, he is so out as soon as he steps into that man's house. It might be so but not certainly, and that is why he is going to find out.

He found the name and an old address from the files, and he could only hope that he had not moved to a different place. If that was the case, Stiles is screwed. He does not have anywhere else to go.

"Let's just get this over with," he sighs and zips his pack where he has packed only the necessary things. He needs to travel light. Not that he owns much. This is going to be a long journey. "Ready or not Beacon Hills...here I come."

Stiles walked as quietly as he could down the stairs and through the dark rooms which were filled with silence. _There’s nothing but bad memories_ , he thought when slipped out from the backdoor to the cold winter air. As soon as he stepped to the cold snow he felt the freezing wind. He really had not thought this trough.

"Great job on planning, Stiles. Fucking brilliant idea to run away on winter." The boy tightened his arms around himself. He hurried out of the yard and continued walking as fast as he could for a while until he reached to the bus stop. Boy with the red hoodie laid his pack to the ground and dug out a thick jacket which he put on. He knew that the color of his lower shirt was not the most ideal choice for low profile runaway plan, but it was his favorite and it made him feel safe. He could not get caught wearing his lucky hoodie, right? It would be against the law of nature, or something.

Anyway, he was finally out. He actually escaped and was safe for now. He could see the empty buss coming along the road. He stopped humming Let it Go from Frozen because wow, apparently that was what he had been doing. _Oh my god, try to behave like normal person for once_. He got in and found good seat. Stiles watched out of the buss window, and he knew that he would not come back without screaming and kicking. Snow was hitting against the glass as he took the final glance of the city he could not hate more _._

"So long, motherfuckers," he said quietly grinning like the insane person he was.

 

* * *

 

He had been travelling for few hours when he took his phone out of his pocket. It was a new but a cheap one. Of course he could not take the better one he got from his keepers with him. Too risky. He had left it in his old room that had never really felt like his own. This phone had no numbers in it, but it should come handy at some point. One just simply could not live without a phone in this kind of society. Not even the ones who are trying to start something new.

He turner it on, just for a moment, to check the time, and then turned it off fast. He didn't know when would be the next time he could load it, so he had to be careful. It was a shame, really. He wished he could kill his time by playing some stupid game. This really was not an ideal situation. You know, having ADHD, sitting still in a car for over six hours and all that jazz.

Before Stiles had realized how tired he was, he had fallen asleep. He woke up when the bus stopped, and more people got in. He asked the time from an old man sitting behind him. Apparently five hours had past. He did not feel like sleeping anymore, now that he was awake and aware what he had done.

Feeling nervous, Stiles tried to imagine every possible outcome from his appearance to his father’s doorsteps. At this point of life he would not describe himself as the most positive person, but he couldn't help hoping that maybe, maybe he would finally find something worth waiting for. If it will be so, he could wait for a while more.

Stiles leaned his head against the cool window. It felt nice against his pounding temple. He could see the morning sun appearing slowly from the horizon. He thought about the pictures he had seen of the town, Beacon Hills, he was reaching to. It had looked nice, like something one might actually call home. He did not want to get ahead of himself, but right at that moment a _home_ sounded pretty damn good.

He was actually surprised when the bus driver announced that next stop is Beacon Hills. _Shit._ Before Stiles knew, he was standing at the bus stop watching as the car drove away.

"Fuck." He ran his fingers through his hair, and sat on the bench nearby. He was shaking.

"This was a bad idea, a really, really, really bad idea."

His father probably had a family.

"What if he sent me back just to get rid of me? I bet he's a criminal or a con artist-" _no wait, that might actually be kind of cool._ "It doesn't matter how awesome it is! This is still a very very very bad idea," Stiles muttered to himself.

"What is a bad idea?" someone said right beside him.

Stiles actually almost stumbled to the ground. "Oh my God." He started to search a source to the voice and saw a boy with a dark curly hair smiling at him. " Not cool, dude. Can you not do that ever again."

"Sorry man," he said and offered a hand to help Stiles to get up. When Stiles took it he asked, "What's a bad idea?"

"Oh nothing special, just my ideas all together," he answered with a small smile playing on his lips when he was finally standing. _Oh only if he knew._

The other boy was frowning. "Hey, are you okay?" there was an actual worry in his voice.

"Yeah, I’m peachy," Stiles said, and sat down to the buss stop's bench. He really was not fooling anyone.

"Are you sure? You look like hell, and you're shaking like crazy. Do you need anything?" The boy looked at Stiles. "Should I take you to the hospital or something?"

Stiles shook his head. "Naah, I've just been really stressed out lately." _Which is the understatement of the year,_ he added to himself.

Eventually, the boy shrugged and sat next to him.

"I've never seen you here before. You don't live near, right? I'm Scott." Stiles gave a good look at the boy, Scott, as he had been told. He seemed harmless enough so he offered a hand, this time to greet the other.

"Stiles."

Scott took it. "Stiles? No offence, but is that even a real name?"

Stile grinned. "None taken and no, it's really not, but I just go with it. My real name is something that shouldn’t exist. “

"It can't be that bad.”

"Polish, difficult to pronounce, comes after my grandfather. Trust me, not worth it."

Scott laughed at that. "You're kind of weird, man."

"That is something I have been told before."

They beamed at each other. Stiles was kind of already starting to like this new town.

 

* * *

 

 "-and apparently that is why they call them potatoes", Stiles finished explaining.

"Dude, you have blown my mind," Scott said looking him with unbelievable expression.

"Well, the pleasure is mine," Stiles answered while he raised his imaginary top hat.

"How do you know all this. Are you like some crazy genius or something?"

"Oh Scott, we can only wish. Unfortunately my knowledge comes from too many cups of coffee and sleepless nights", he mocked a sigh.

Scott was kind of awesome, and he thought that Stiles was hilarious which was praiseworthy feature in a person. "Where have you been all my life? You have no idea how often people don't appreciate my awesome invincible sense of humor," Stiles shook his head looking dead serious, well maybe not.

"Their loss, I guess?" Scott broke into a smile which made Stiles smile. "Still, I'm glad I ran into you. Good people are hard to find, but I think I can tell pretty well when I see one", the boy with the crooked jaw said. "Though, Isaac always says that I trust people too easily."

"Maybe you do. I could be some psycho or a serial killer," Stiles gave his best disturbing smile.

"No, I think I'm good. You're not a murderer, right?"

He was going to say something, but suddenly Stiles felt blank. He had never wanted to be anything like a killer, not him, but he could not tell if he was any better than that. There were things he had done, things _they_ made him do. "I could be."

"No you're not. I could tell."

"Well maybe you're not as good at reading people as you think," Stiles stared straight into other boy's eyes.

"You might got some burden, but it doesn't mean everything is your fault. You might not know it yet but someday you will. Derek once told me that," Scott said and looked like for a moment he got lost in his thoughts.

Stiles quietly played with the thought of forgiving himself his past. It seemed impossible. "How could he know that? And who is Derek anyway?"

"Right, Derek is... in this _group_ I hang out with. People can't always tell, but he is a good guy. He's something like a leader to us. I mentioned Isaac earlier, he has been living at Derek's place for a while now. Poor guy wasn't in a good place before."

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it and opened it again, but all he got out was, "Are you in a gang?" which made Scott laugh like crazy.

The tension was gone.

"Sorry, but it is a damn fair question," Stiles said grinning, "I have the right to know in whose territory I am in."

"I guess you could say that this is ours, but don't worry, I'm totally giving you the full permission to loiter around." For some weird reason he almost felt like Scott was not joking.

Stiles choose to ignore the feeling, "Well, then I must send my gratitude to your great leader."

There was a glint in Scott's eyes.

Stiles yawned and stretched his neck. _Damn, I feel exhausted_.  Suddenly Stiles realised that it was rather dark already. "How long have we talked?"

"I have no idea. Let me check my phone", Scott shrugged. "It's a bit past six."

_Shit_

"Shit", he ran his hand through his hair, feeling nervous again. He had to find the house that might be his father's. "It was really nice to meet you but I really need to get going. I haven't even started to look the address I need to find, and I feel like I'm already lost."

"Wait, let me see. I've lived here my whole life, so I might be able to help you with that."

Stiles showed him the paper piece where the address to Scott, and he hummed, "Yup, this is easy. It's just a couple blocks from my place. I can show you the way."

"Seriously? You are my saviour," Stiles said exaggerating. "No, I mean really. Someone would have probably found my body from some gutter on next spring if you wouldn't have offered to help me." He waved his hands as if it would show how big deal this was.  


"Just doing my job."

"Is your job guiding the lost strays back to their families?"

"Not really..." Scott grinned.

"I bet no one is actually paying you anything, so I'm just going to assume that you just are pretty great guy. Honestly, thanks."

Scott looked pleased, "So you're visiting your relatives?"

 _Shit. Shit. Play_ _cool_. "You could say that." _Success. Cool as a cucumber._

"Cool."

And that was it. They chatted while walking to the destination.

Stiles knew that he was good at acting like he was not on a breaking point because something might go horribly wrong soon. Internally he was really to bolt. He might just done that, if Scott was not there kindly showing him the way, and talking about the best pizzarias of the town.

 

* * *

 

They arrived to the address, and _What the hell?_ There was a freaking police car in front of the house. Stiles freezed. _My father is actually a drug dealer or a kidnapper. Just because this is my life I would go safe and assume that the older Stilinski was both.  
_

Finally he opened his mouth and actually talked like a civilized human being, "There's a police car...?"

"Of course there is. This is Sheriff Stilinski's house," Scott looked amused.

"S-Sheriff?" Stiles gaped.

"Yeah, Sheriff. What's the big deal?"

"Oh my god. What is happening," stiles complained, rubbing his temples.

Scott looked confused. He glanced at the house, then Stiles, then house. "By the way, why are we in front of the Sheriff's house? I thought you were talking something about your relatives?"

 _And this is my que._ "It was nice meeting you, Scott. Thanks for leading the way!" Stiles said, raised his hand to salute and turned his back to Scott. _Poor boy obviously wasn't the brightest color in a crayon box,_ he though while walking towards the Door. _The door of the doom. The door of the all possible disasters that could happen. This is it. Oh my god. I'm not ready. I'm going to puke._ He almost did not hear Scott calling him.

"Are you..? Hey, I didn't know that he had any relatives around!" shouted Scott who was still standing beside the road.

Stiles decided not to answer, but he said to himself with a low voice, "Nether does he, yet."

That was the last thing the boys said to each other on that day, because Stiles had reached to the front door. "Here goes for nothing," the boy with a red hoodie rang the doorbell, and closed his eyes shut.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. I was buried underneath and all I could see was white

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Stilinski family feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, people are actually reading this. Thank you for the comments! You guys are wonderful and you make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  
> I have no idea what I'm doing but here we go again. This is the next chapter, so as we say in Finland: Olkaa hyvä!

 

 

There was a man wearing a sheriff's uniform in front of him. The years had worn lines to his face but he did not look even that old, he did look tired, though.

"A long day?" Stiles blurted before he got hold of his tongue, and winced right after. _Why do I even try?_

"A long week, as a matter of fact. You would think that a sheriff of this small town would get a blink of sleep now and then, but not really,"tThe older man said.

"That sucks. People need their sleep."

"That's true. There has been some bizarre thing going on lately around the town."

"What kind of bizarre things?" Stiles could not help asking.

"I'm a cop, you know. I'm not supposed to spread these things around,"  Sheriff said seriously, but you could hear a hint of amusement there.

"Cross my heart, I'm not telling anyone," Stiles gave his best hopeful eyes.

"Bodies, some nasty stuff. Not something you want to here or see, trust me kid."

"Any idea what's causing them?" _Oh my god. We are actually chatting._

"You tell me. This used to be a peaceful town," Sheriff said getting lost in his thoughts. "Son, as nice it has been talking to you, do you mind telling why are you on my doorsteps?"

 _Son,_ he had said. A small word, but it really hit Stiles. He lowered his eyes so that he was staring at the floor.

 _I just need to tell him. Just let it out. Say it._ He tried to find the words.

"Are you okay?" the older man asked.

_Just do it, and then he can tell you off and you can go your way._

"I am-" _your son_ , he almost blurted out. " -Stiles." _Way to go._

"Well, hello Stiles," the older man looked amused.

"No, what I mean is that I am, I mean you are. No wait, are we...I mean are you  John Stilinski?" He finally got out. _It wasn't that hard, was it?_

"Yes, that's me. Is there something on your mind?" He looked observant, more than before. It was like he had realized that maybe the crazy kid had really something that he needed help with.

Stiles had his mouth half opened. _How do you tell someone you're his son? There should be a manual for this or something._ Instead of doing or saying something useful he just stared at John Stilinski's face for 20 seconds.

“Are you allri-“

“Could you help me with something?” Stiles said suddenly feeling flustered. He needed to do this and get it over with. “I have something with me, and I would appreciate if you could take a look.” Stiles leaned to grab his pack. “It would be really helpful. It won't take long, I promise," He paused at that. "Actually, it might take longer than a moment. I have no idea how I should explain any of this, but I'm in a trouble and I need your help.”

John opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles continued, “It’s not what you think, I swear! Wait, I don’t really know what you think," he was now talking to himself, but he turned soon back to John's direction. "What do you think this is?”

Sheriff gave him a sympathetic smile, “I have no idea what you're talking about, but just come inside and we'll see what I can do for you,” he held the door open and let the boy in.

“Sorry for intruding.”

“It’s not like I have any other arrangement for tonight,” the man shrugged.

“Well I think sleeping is always a good arrangement." Stiles looked around. _This is where his father lives._

“True,” Sheriff said smiling and closed the door. Stiles followed him further in to the house, running his fingers along the old wallpaper while he passed the corridor. It looked nice, homey. Stiles observed that they had arrived to the living room. He put his pack down, opened the zipper and started to rummage through it _. The sooner the better_ , he thought.

Stiles found the big envelope he had hidden behind some clothes and books. He handed it to John. “I’m just going to say few things first. I’ve been living with a foster family since my mother died. They aren't really that good people, and I needed to get out. They were hiding some of my personal files, but I came across of these. There was some things written in those that I didn’t know before and…please don't freak out when you read them.”

John took them and he looked like he wanted to ask something. Instead of it he said, “Just sit down. I’m making some coffee, and then I'll take a look."

“Yeah, okay dokey. I’ll just wait here, _” and look around_ , Stiles added to himself.

John waved the pile of papers. "I have no idea what in these could make you so nervous," he said and disappeared from the door to the kitchen, or which Stiles assumed to be the kitchen. He sank to the couch. _Cozy_.

He stayed still about 30 seconds, until his eyes wandered to the box that was on the coffee table. _Are those…?_ Stiles turned the box a bit so he could see what was written on its side. ‘Classified information – Do not take’ it read. _Oh my god, this is so cool. I wish I could just take peak._ He tapped his fingers against it. _Nope, I really shouldn’t do that._ So instead he took a stroll to check the room.

His mom used to talk about Stiles’ father. She told him that she loved him dearly, and that he was kind and strong. She told him about how they went house hunting, and that they found the most adorable house. John worried about the price but she had it all planned – what kind of flowers she want to plant to the backyard, the color of the kitchen walls. John promised her that they could paint the walls yellow and that they would buy the white curtains, the kinds that let sunlight shine through them. _It would look nice in the morning sun,_ she had thought.

She had explained that there was a big tree just beside the window of Stiles’ room, so he could see the seasons changing from there, every time he looked out. She used to tell him that one day they would go back because she had a plan - a plan that obviously went horribly wrong.

He was looking at the bookshelf. _He has some nice books._ Stiles' eyes scanned the tittles one by one. _Hey, this was mom’s favorite._ Stiles felt warm inside. There was a small table next to the shelf, and on top of it there were only a few framed pictures. The closest one to him was an old family picture. He could see a young John Stilinski smiling with his relatives. _I guess he don’t have a wife or kids._ Was he being selfish for feeling glad that it was the case?

 _Wait a moment, are these my grandparents._ His mother had told him that both of her parents had passed away, so the whole concept felt foreign to him. _I might have grandparents._

The photo beside the other one was much newer. _Friends_ , he thought. It looked like it was taken at a barbecue party.There were more than ten people in the picture, everyone smiling. Stiles liked it. There was one more frame behind this one.

Stiles stared at the picture. In it there were two people he did not recognize, but in the middle smiled John and Claudia - _mom._ She looked younger than he remember but as beautiful as always. Her dark hair looked wild and so did her golden brown eyes. She looked so _alive_.

Suddenly there was a loud sound of a coffee cup crashing to the kitchen floor. _Oh, he has started to read the files._

“This is? How can this be?” Stiles heard talking from the kitchen while he approached the room. He peaked in, trying to get some sense how the Sheriff was holding on with the new information. He could see the man holding the papers in a grip that seemed tighter than one normally would. The sides were starting wrinkle. John turned to face Stiles. “Stilinski. It says _Stilinski_.”

He gave a slow nod, afraid to enter to the kitchen.

“Are you a Stilinski? It says that you mother is…oh god.”

Another nod.

“Stiles, you said your mother died?” his voice broke down in the middle of the sentence.

“Cancer,” he said carefully. It was close enough of a description.

“You’re Claudia’s, you’re _my_ child?” he sounded so defeated, and Stiles did not know what to make of it.

“It seems so,” he tried to sound carefree, but the smile did not reach to his eyes, and is mouth was not doing any better job looking upturned. He felt vulnerable. There was no knowing how the other will act, father or not, he does not know him.

That was why Stiles was surprised of what he heard next.

"Stiles, now I need you to be honest with me, can you do that?" John looked dead serious.

Stiles nodded once more.

“What did they do to you, your foster parents?"

Stiles blinked his eyes wide.

"Did they hurt you?”

Stiles shrugged. He really did not want to answer to that. There was no way he could tell everything, not yet.

“Stiles, please look at me and tell the truth,” he asked.

A pause.

“It isn’t that simple,” he knew that he had hesitated a moment too long.

“You’re just a kid," he whispered. "I am going to put them behind the bars,” the man sounded furious. He was walking back and forth the kitchen.

“They were just really obsessed and controlling but I’m fine, it was always fine!” He did not even know why he was making excuses. All he knew, was that there was always more behind it, and that he did not deserve to be treated as some harmless victim.

The older man was fuming. He turned to Stiles' direction, walked to him and lifted his hands so that they were holding Stiles' face. The boy felt the warm palms and the rough skin against his cheeks. He felt so small. “Let me look at you,” John said.

“I’m fine,” Stiles assured and tried to look somewhere else.

“It’s not fine!” John said loudly and Stiles eyes were back to looking into his father’s.

“Stiles, this is not fine.” They just stared at each other for a while. Stiles felt like a stubborn child.

This man was his father and he sounded so shocked and angry, but he was not angry at him, he was angry for him.

 

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

They were sitting on the opposite sides of the kitchen table, cups of coffee steaming in front of them, both silent. Stiles was sipping the hot black liquid and staring down the stain on the table. It was the size of his fingertip. Occasionally he took a glance of the person who happened to be his father. He noticed that he was not the only one practicing the act.

 _I have a father._ He felt giddy but he bit back a smile.

He also felt that he should say something, “About my mom…”

When he looked to the other man's eyes, he could see sadness and he knew that it reflected in his own's too. Stiles wanted to say more but he did not know how to, so he settled staring at the stain again. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally confessed.

“Hey,” Stiles raised his eyes from the table. “You don’t have to. We can talk later,” John said and stood from the chair picking up his phone. “You must be starving. I’m going to order some pizza,” he announced and dialed the number.

Stiles played with the strings of his hoodie. Now when he thought about it, he had not eaten anything all day. The cheap sandwich had remained untouched in the bottom of his pack. He was shifting in his chair, feeling out of a place.

“You’re not allergic to anything, right?”

“Nope.”

“You know you can take a look around if you want to.”

 _Yes._ Stiles eyes light up. Walking, he could walk a bit. Also, snooping, it was in his top three favorite things to do. So he ended up wandering around the downstairs. He found the toilet, study and – a closet. He returned to the living room because he did not feel like he should go upstairs, not yet anyway, but if the pizza deliver takes too long, he was willing to take the risk. Boredom was a dangerous thing, for him especially.

It was a bit strange how the place felt familiar, after all, he kind of knew the place. It was exactly like his mother had described. He moved the curtain to look to the backyard, but it was too dark to see anything. _I wonder if there's tulips in the backyard._

 

* * *

 

They had finished eating. It had been nice, they had talked a bit about nothing special at the same time that C.S.I was on.

“I think I should get going if I want to find a motel,” Stiles stood and started to clean the pizza boxes without thinking.

“Are you serious?”

“Huh?” Stiles blinked then took a look what he was doing. _What? They are just pizza boxes._

“It is 11 pm, you’re in a strange town, you don’t have a car and I would bet that you don’t have much money to spend.”

_Oh -  he was talking about that._

“I-I don’t but –“

“Stiles, you’re staying here.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are,” Sheriff's eyes were sober, like he had made his mind.

Stiles was going to protest, but then John said, "I could always start using your real first name."

Panic flashed in Stiles eyes, and sheriff saw it.

"I have to say that I'm rather impressed. Really unique. Claudia always was her own kind of a person."

"You wouldn't dare," Stiles narrowed his eyes.

The expression showed that, yes, he actually would.

Stiles sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

And that was it. He was apparently staying over.

“You know, I could rob you. I could be a crazy person or an identity thief, and you just gave me an opportunity to murder you while you sleep.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I can tell.”  

“How come everyone in this town are so sure about themselves?” that or he looked just that harmless, which was ridiculous, because he knew better than anyone how harmful he could be. _They’re playing with fire and they have no idea._

Instead of answering, Sheriff left the room, Stiles followed. They walked to the corridor, and John opened a closet’s door. It was the same one Stiles had discovered earlier. He picked some fresh sheets and handed them to Stiles.

John showed the way to upstairs, where there was another corridor and a row of doors. They passed the first one, next one and finally stopped to the third door. “I’ve been using this as a guest room sometimes. It’s mostly empty.”

The room was nice. Blue walls, kind of spacious. That was probably because there really was not that many furniture. “It's nice.”

Stiles walked to the window dragging his pack behind him. He looked outside and saw a big maple tree outside. This is his room, _the one mom talked about._

He was surprised when something hit to the back of his head, something soft. “What the..?” He turned around and saw Sheriff looking amused. “I did say 'watch out'. You should pick that up,” he pointed at the pillow beside Stiles' feet. Then he tilted his head, “Is something wrong? You look a bit off.”

Stiles realized he had been staring at the tree for god knows how long. He’s face grew hot. “No!” he said fast. “No, I guess I’m just more exhausted than I thought.”

John gave him a gentle smile. “I’ll just leave you to it then,” he said and continued, “There’s a bathroom –“

“– On the left, next to this room, got it,” Stiles said aloud without thinking.

“How did you...? I didn’t hear you going upstairs earlier when you were snooping around.”

“I didn’t,” Stiles felt embarrassed to some reason, “but mom used to tell me about some house she fell in love. I have this notebook where she drew and wrote stuff – is this werd because I think this might be a bit weird - to you. I am acting creepy, aren't I?” he started to babble.

But instead of freaking out, all that the older man said was, “She did?”

Stiles looked outside once more before looking back at Sheriff. “Yeah.”

“She did love the house,” he said quietly and touched the wood panel of the door.

Then Stiles remembered what the other had said earlier, “And excuse you, but I don’t snoop around,” he tried to sound offended. John just raised his eyebrows. _Okay, who was he fooling. He had been totally snooping around._ “Judge all you want.”

He just smiled, took his leave, closed the door and Stiles was alone.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was laying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was white, _white, white, all white_. Why was it so _white_?

He felt the magic buzzing under his skin. It made him feel restless. He tried to focus on something, but he could not get a grasp of anything. It felt like he was all over the place, and he could not put himself back together, so he just stayed there looking up.

Stiles tried if he could sense anything threatening approaching, but he could not feel or hear anything else near the house than his own breathing and John’s – his father’s presence, like he was pacing floor below.

He was safe for change, and it felt good.

Maybe he could have left earlier from his keepers, but at least now, he was 18-years old and legal. They could not force him to come back, right? They would not have the right. Not that they had any rights for anything they had done to him or made him do. _Bastards._

He lulled to sleep thinking about his mother, his father and about the tree that he could see from his bed.

It was winter.

 

* * *

 

_He saw his mother die…once again._

_He saw the faces, or what was left of them, of the people to whom he had brought harm._

_He felt guilt and blame._

_He felt how he screamed until his throat was dry and painful._

 

When he woke up, no noise left from his open mouth. There was only silence everywhere, silence and _white_.

 _Thank god_ , he thought. He did not want his father to think that his offspring was a nutcase. He was not – if anyone was wondering. At least that was what he always tried to insist to himself.

He shifted, so he could reach to turn the alarm clock from the nightstand to his direction. 5 am it showed, _too early to wake up, too late to go to sleep._ He rolled from the bed and walked to the bathroom to take a leak.

He felt sweaty and cross, but he did not want to wake John by taking a shower, so instead, he settled to wash his face. Then he pulled the shirt over his head, to do the same to his upper body. His bare back covered with tattoos was revealed to the cold air and he shivered. He let the water run hot and wash the stickiness away. If only he could make the awful feeling go away just as easily.

He walked back to _his_ room without a shirt and pulled a clean one from his pack and put it on. He pulled the red hoodie over his head and put some pants on, but no socks. This morning he needs to feel something. When he headed downstairs, the wooden floor felt nice under his bare feet. _Seriously, who barbarian would prefer a fitted carpet on a floor?_ Stiles took his time when he walked across the living room and to the backdoor. He unlocked it and stepped out to the fresh morning air. _Thank god there’s no snow_.

The boy walked to the middle of the yard and sat down to the ground. He cracked his neck and stretched his arms. Then he tried to relax. _Breathe in, breathe out._

_Breathe in, breathe out._

_In - out._ He could feel the energy running through his skin when his fingers brushed the ground. “Yesss, this is the thing,” he groaned. His back tingled. Then he just sat there and listened the earth move.

 

* * *

 

Stiles snapped out of it, when he heard a familiar voice talking to him.

“I thought you had left,” John sounded relieved.

“No I just needed to calm myself down.”          

“Claudia used to do that too.”

That made Stiles open his eyes, “She taught me how.”

“One autumn morning she was lying in the middle of the leaves and she told me that she was doing yoga. I told her that even I could tell that it was no yoga. _Meditation then_ – she snapped back," the man smiled gently to the memory. “But I liked the most when she told me that she was listening the earth talking. _It has so much to say, but no one is listening_ – she said.”

Stiles liked his dad, and he could see what she had seen in him. He was kind and warm, just like his mother had described. _Mom, I think he bought you a house, and you didn’t even know._

“Well, I’m going to make some coffee. Come inside when you are ready with this…stuff, but don’t stay too long, you'll catch a cold.” He glanced at Stiles’ feet. “That can’t be good for you,” he said sounding worried, and went back inside.

_I wonder if he would let me stay, even for a little while._

Stiles got up and followed his father to the kitchen. He was frying something for breakfast, so Stiles went closer and glanced over his shoulder, _bacon and eggs_.

“Don’t say you eat that every morning.”

“And what if I say that yes, in fact I do.”

“Then I would say that it’s not healthy, and ask if you are trying to kill yourself. Where are all the fruits and vegetables?”

John did not look offended, instead he gave a small grin saying, “My house, my rules.”

Stiles just shook his head, trying to look like he was greatly disappointed.

They sat down and ate some breakfast. Stiles sneaked some tomato slices to John’s plate when he was not looking, and the man actually ended up eating them in the end, with no complains. He just gave the younger man the look that said, ‘Really, Stiles, really?’

_Success_

There was a long pause when neither of them spoke.

“I have ADHD,” Stiles blurted out as smoothly as always. John looked at him. “That’s why I personally like to do the _meditation_ thing, it anchors me. I got some medication too but this thing really helps.” He got an understanding nod, and Stiles was glad that that was the reactions. Not a lot of people would want an over-hyperactive kid ruining their peace and quiet. If his dad minded, it did not show. _Dad…I wonder if I could call him dad?_ It was fun to play with the thought.

 

* * *

 

Soon Sheriff had to leave to do his duty, and Stiles gave him a wave when he stepped out of the door. They had made the arrangement that Stiles could do the grocery shopping while John was at work. 

John had insisted that Stiles can stay at the house as long as he wants, so Stiles had insisted that the grocery duty was on him. Also, he actually was pretty confident with his cooking skills.

Stiles took a piece of paper and started to write down what he needed to buy. _We need more veggies_ , he thought. _Wait - hold on... John, he needs some veggies._ _It’s not like I live here. There's no 'we'.  
_

Suddenly he felt gloomy again. This morning he had tried to make a cup of tea instead of coffee, just as how his mother preferred. The tea in his cup was already lukewarm and disgusting, it tasted like dirt. He glared at the cup like it was the devil itself. _Mom’s tea always tasted sweet and wonderful._

The chair he was sitting on was beside the window, beside the white curtains. _White_ -

Suddenly he was back thinking about last night's dream. There was something strange about it. In his nightmares there was always pain and shame, but this time there has been something else too. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. _Why can’t I remember what it was?_

It has been a while since he had seen anything else in his dreams beside the usual terrors.

There had been something red in the middle of all the white.

He had been doodling something to his shopping list without thinking. When he took a look, there were two eyes staring at him, and then he remembered.

_Wolves_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first, I was supposed to put one particular first meeting to this chapter, but I ended up leaving it to the next one. I really wanted to focus on the plot between Stiles and his father. I really hope you liked it!  
> The third chapter is going to be more light. There might be some jamming at the grocery store and perhaps bickering in the middle of the cereal aisle, you never know.


	3. Is there a reason I'm not healing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has come to the conclusion that the people living in Beacon Hills are crazy, and nothing is going to change his mind, nope.

 

It had been a long morning, and it was not even 11 am yet. After sheriff had left, Stiles had no idea what to do with himself, so he had just been going through some photo albums he found from the bookshelf. There were pictures from his father with his relatives and friends, but most were old ones from his twenties. When Claudia stopped being in the photos there were less and less of them. It reminded him that he should show some photos of him and his mom. There were few between the pages of her notebook and couple more that he had kept safe.

He actually had been worried if John would believe him. It was not everyday that something like this happens. Stiles had been happy to give his files to John when he left to work. You could assume that he wanted to take a closer look at them, though, he seemed to be pretty convinced about the story. It made Stiles glad.

Maybe the photos would make it more real. All kind of questions ran through his mind. What was his father’s birthday? How old was he? What kind of music he listens? Stiles had not really had any time to check John’s eye color. No reason, he was just curious. _I have a father._ Stiles could not stop smiling.

He felt restless, and he did not have anything better to do so it was time to do some shopping. Maybe he could buy some more socks when his at it. John had left some money to the counter, even though, Stiles had told him that it was not necessary. Also, he had handed Stiles keys of a jeep he had in the garage and told him to use it. 'It is easier that way', he had said. Stiles, of course, had reminded him that he still could be an awful person and steal the car and everything worthy in the house. His father had just looked amused and told him ‘ _No you wouldn’t_.’ Stiles had shouted ‘ _You can’t know that!’_ as the man left the house. But it was true, he would not do that. Still, people in this town are crazy.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was driving the blue jeep and using the opportunity to take a look at the town. It was like sight-seeing, and he felt carefree. Finally he parked in front of the grocery store. _Let’s get this party started._

John had ignored Stiles’ warnings about unhealthy food habits, so Stiles had decided to ignore John. He picked some fresh fruits and tried to figure some nice healthy options for John. He would not let the man die with heart attack because of a bad diet.  _Not on my watch._

It was relaxing to do something so mundane. Stiles took his time looking at the right ingredients. He had found good looking ryebread and now he had decided that it was time to take a look at his list. He opened the wrinkled piece of paper. Only half of it was actual writing, and the rest some weird doodling Stiles had done. _I got almost everything. All I need is just…_

 _Yes cereals!_ Stiles walked to the cereal aisle and tried to spot the brand he was looking for. They were so good and, what was the most important thing, healthy. He tried to spot the right package among the sugary ones.

There it was, the last box of it in the shelf. Stiles reached for it, but at the same time someone else grabbed the box. Stiles eyes were on the cereals, and he could see that neither them intended to let the box go. Other hand tried to take it, but Stiles kept the hold. He was faced with very frustrated looking eyebrows and a scowling face which went nicely along with them.

“Let go of it,” said the man sounding even more annoyed than he looked, if that was even possible.

“No,” _oh hell I won’t._

“No?” It sounded like the man couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I need it more than you do,” Stiles blurted.

“No you don’t. Just take something else.”

“No, I don’t want to,” Oh Stiles can be stubborn if he wants to, so he kept going, “Those there are much more expensive and the ones next to them taste like wood. I want this one.” He had been pointing at the other boxes that were still in the shelf.

“Well, you aren’t going to get it,” the guy said and tried to take the box away but Stiles’ hand came along like glued. “Are you serious,” he looked absolutely murderous.

“I need to show someone that healthy can be _fun_ and you are taking my fun away!”

“You’re ridiculous!”

“Your eyebrows are ridiculous!”

“Wait, what?”

_Shit.  
_

“What?” _Ignoring is always the solution._

“You said that – oh whatever. I can’t believe we’re doing this." It sounded like the man couldn not understand why he had to deal with this kid.

“Oh we are doing this alright.” _This was war._

They were having a staring contest, and wow the angry man had some gorgeous eyes. _No! Stiles get a grip of yourself. He is the enemy._

Stiles took a glance of the man’s appearance and _Damn_. He was like this wall of muscle. If it was not so, Stiles could tried to kick the other man to the knee, and make him trip and take the box and run, but at this scenario Stiles would probably just break his own leg. Not that he would actually go around kicking people. It only have happened like…twice.

Anyway, the glaring had gone for a while now, both of them still looking very determined. It was not just about the cereal box anymore. _Why do I keep getting in to these weird situations?_ Stiles asked from himself. _  
_

Suddenly someone turned to the aisle “Hey there you are. I’ve been looking for you!” It was a woman’s voice. “What are-“

The guy had turned to look at her, eyebrows furrowed and mouth half open. Stiles saw his chance. He pulled the packet from the eased grip and made a tactical retreat, or in other words, he run like hell. When he had reached to the end of the aisle he shouted “VICTORY!” and did not slow down until he was at the cash register. He could not see the other man anywhere. _Oh hell that was scary._

 _Never again,_ Stiles thought, paid to the cashier and left the store.

 

* * *

 

When he got back to the house he started to unpack the food. He had forgotten the socks. _Damn, the guy with angry eyebrows! What did I say before, the people of this town are crazy._

He just needs to buy them some other time. Stiles glanced at the clock. It was already three. He sure had taken his time.

Stiles was now cleaning the fridge from all the old stuff. It was not like he had anything better to do. Also, it was nice that he could do something for his dad. Maybe he could cook something for him.

Stiles picked up his phone and send text to John. His number was the first one in his phone.

 

**To: John**

**_Hi! This is Stiles. What time you get off work. I was thinking of cooking something for the dinner._ **

 

He was done with the fridge when he looked at his phone’s screen. _2 messages_ , it said. For some reason he felt nervous.

 

**From: John**

**_Dinner sounds good. I get off today earlier than usual, so I should be home by four. Also, I have some things I’d like to talk you about._ **

 

Stiles eyes were wide staring at the message. _What can that mean?_

The other text just said: **‘ _But don’t freak out. Nothing bad, I promise.’_**

So, he probably would not get kicked out. John said it was not anything bad after all. Fuck, it was nerve wracking. He decided to be in the favor of not freaking out, like John had said. He might as well start planning the dinner. He found ‘Kiss the cook” –apron from the kitchen cabinets and put it on.

 

* * *

 

The lasagna was ready at the time John got home.

“Wow it smells amazing,” Stiles could hear from the corridor. The man sounded honestly surprised.

“Just one of my many awesome qualities,” Stiles shouted from the kitchen. He was mixing the salad.

John walked to the kitchen but when he was about to put his gun on the table, Stiles snapped, “Hey! No guns on the dinner table."

The sheriff looked amused and raised his hands in defense. “As the cook says.”

“Damn right,” Stiles said, picked the salad bowl from the counter and brought it on the table. John looked skeptical, but Stiles just wiggled his eyebrows at him. The table was already set so they sat down and both of them took large servings of the lasagna. Stiles tried to push the salad bowl to his father directions not too subtly.

“You will thank me someday.”

Sheriff took a bite of the main dish and his eyes widened. “Wow, this is really good.”

“Thank you,” Stiles beamed and stuffed forkful of lasagna into his own mouth.

“Where did you learn making this?”

“I found the recipe from internet, but believe me, there has been many failures before I got it to this point of awesome.”

“I’m impressed.”They smiled at each other. There was a silence for a moment and Stiles could see that John was thinking of saying something, so he just bit his lip.

“Son, this has been really crazy turnout, but there is no reason to believe that you wouldn't be my kid” Stiles’ heart skipped a beat.

"But we could still take some DNA tests," Stiles said hurrying, feeling like he had to prove something.

“It wasn’t like I doubted that you lied to me, but I’ve been doing some serious research on the papers and your background. I wanted to get some point of view what have been going on.”

Stiles gave an understanding nod.

“You have to understand, that I still do not know how all this happened without my knowing, so you, Stiles have to tell me about all this at some point.”

“Of course I will, I just…”

“But you don’t have to hurry. You can take your time and you don’t have to tell me everything at once. Okay?”

“Yes. Thanks," Stiles said while he pushed the food on his plate from side to the other side, trying to find courage.

“I told you before but mom really wanted to come back. She talked about it all the time. She also told me about my father – about you. It just, “ he felt so frustrated, “nothing went as it was supposed to! She wasn’t safe and I wasn’t safe. She just tried to figure everything out alone. It was too much and then she was just gone.” Stiles knew how broken he sounded. It was because he _was_ broken and there were so many pieces chattered all around.

The older man was examining Stiles face. “I believe you.”

And for Stiles that was all that mattered at the moment. He tried to blink the wetness from his eyes. It did not really help, so instead, he took a big bite of the food. He sniffed and said, “Damn that's good,” it came out sounding strangled.

John let out laugh. “You are kind of ridiculous.”

“Am not,” Stiles said and ate a slice of tomato.

“Reminds me of Claudia.” Stiles stopped stuffing food to his mouth and raised his eyes from the plate. The older man’s expression was gentle.

Stiles coughed the food down face red. John hummed grinning. “Seriously, I should have noticed right away.” Stiles just blushed and took a gulp of the water.

“Oh right, how would you like to go to school at Beacon Hills?”

And that was when Stiles spat everything out.

He took look at the man who just told the offer. _Dad is enjoying this too much of this_ , Stiles thought. He tried to collect himself and wiped spit and water from his chin. “School. Um I, honestly, I haven’t even thought about it.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“I asked around, and it seems they could take you in. And of course you could stay here,” he added quietly.

“Really?” Stiles bit back a smile.

“Yeah,” John looked at the blank wall. “I mean if you want to, you are already eighteen so it’s your choice.” He sounded hopeful.

“But you wouldn’t mind..?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Stiles was poking now familiar stain on the table, and Sheriff took a glance at Stiles now and then, but suddenly he stilled as if he realized something.

“Oh and I hope this wasn't a secret because I kind of might have blurted out that I have a son at the station,” The man looked apologetic.

"You told people about me?" Stiles was honestly surprised.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have."

“No, it’s fine if you’re fine with it, you know, about me being your son. It’s okay if you don’t want that because I know I can be a bit-,” he trailed off. John gave him ‘you’re ridiculous’-look again. “Yeah, okay. But my point is that I just don’t want to contact my ‘foster parents’, not yet at least.” John gave understanding nod. “But I don’t mind if you tell to your friends or co-workers.” He muttered. _Why was his face burning hot?  
_

“I’m glad.”

And Stiles realized that he was too.

When he went back to his room, the first thing he did was change the name of his first contact on his phone from ‘John’ to ‘Dad’.

Whatever, it was ~~not~~ a big deal.

 

* * *

 

Stiles and John had made a plan that Stiles would start going to Beacon Hills High School on next week. It was Thursday, so he got some time to get used to the idea. It was strange. Last time he had been in school his foster parents had not really cared about the any kind of education they give at High School.

They let him go to school but told him not to stand out or get too into it, whatever that meant. Sometimes he had to be away from school for weeks, because of their ‘family trips’, which for Stiles had included running around the States and hunting down some supernatural creatures. Later on, Stiles realized that it was all about the power, and Stiles was powerfull. Still, he never wanted to hurt anyone. His mother had told him not to. There were times, he actually kind of liked the whole 'guide' thing he had going on. It made him feel useful, but again, that was all he ever was to them. He tried to tell himself that this was right.

At some point, Stiles realized that they were not just some monsters they were preying at. They were just like him, born different. His mother was gone, and he was told that he needed to do this because _now they were a family._ Then it changed to _it's for the greater good_ , but in the end all he could hear was the pitying voice telling  _you have nothing else_. And the truth was, he did not.

But here he was, in his father's house, in his own room. Stiles was glad that he could actually study away from all he left behind, but at the same time he felt a bit lost. He did not know how to do this all. He did not know what to be and what to want from life. _I guess, I never truly had the chance to decide._

Stiles looked around the room. He had cleaned it earlier that day. His window was open and it felt chilly. Stiles stripped his shirt and stretched his hands behind his back. Then he sat on the bed and began to massage his aching muscles.

He thought about the things his mother had told him when he was small.

_‘The spark is a part of you. You can’t separate it from your body, not from your mind._

He gave his left leg the last rub and laid to the bed trying to find the balance inside of him, but he could not calm down. Everything felt sore.

_‘You know how the wounds leave scars to your skin? The blood will stop bleeding, the pain will be gone and you get better. Still, there’s always going to be something left. White lines, white voids, white marks.'_

“It hurts,” Stiles said to the empty room. _Why does it still hurt? I know that I did wrong but why I'm not healing?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to decide whether the whole Hale family is alive in this story.


	4. Flesh and bone wrapped up in skin, kept alive by oxygen

__

 

_He ran again, waiting to his feet to give in. They never did, so he ran. There was no wind, no uphill nor downhill. There were wolves around him, but he could not figure out whether he was chasing them or running from them. They run all night side by side. Stiles could feel the fur of a black wolf brushing his hand. It took time, but he realized that actually he was running with them._

 

* * *

Stiles pulled the jeep to the parking lot. He felt weirdly rested which was odd, because he never got a good night sleep. It just simply did not happen. He had been sitting inside of the car just thinking about it, when he thought that maybe it would be good idea to get off the car and actually go inside to the store where he was supposed to go.

It has been a nice morning. HE was having a nice morning. It was so bizarre, because he always woke feeling like shit and scared like hell. Today he had slept till noon. _When was the last time he woke up after seven in the morning?_

He noticed that the door of his room was cracked open. John had checked him before he left to work. He had left a note to the kitchen table, it said that Stiles should visit the station so they could get some things officially straight. They had talked about it before, and it felt like a smart idea. He would not want Sheriff to get into trouble because someone thought that Stiles was taken to Beacon Hills against his own will. Shit happens.

As he said, it had been _nice,_ and now he was going to buy some socks. He put the headphones on and started listen to a radio from his phone. There was no music or any applications in his new phone, which did suck, but at least there was a radio. So yeah, he can just go with that.

The end of Fall Out Boy’s Alone Together was playing when he walked to the empty store. Soon after he reached to the section where they had all the clothes, [SuperLove from Charli XCX ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPWcX-16A9Y)started to play. And he might know the lyrics, whatever. So, like totally a normal person, he used his smooth moves to get from underwear aisle to where the socks were displayed.

“You're whisky, wasted, and beautiful dancing through the fire. You're such a vision to see,” he sang along while he went through the sock which were on sale.

“I used to think that the power of love was just a song, but now it's got hold in me.” He pointed at himself.

“S.O.S, is it me? Or this is dangerous?” Stiles made a sharp turn along with the melody and took a look at the blue socks.

“Kill me with your touch.” He waved the socks he had in his hands. “You're soaking through my butt.”

“R.I.P, set me free, yeah, this is dangerous. I can't get enough.”

He paused.

“Ta ta,” Stiles mouthed and clapped his hand twice.

“Wanna fall into your super love. Yeah my heart never wants it to stop, please save me.” He shook his hips in the rhythm of the song.

 _Hey, these ones look nice._ He picked a pack of socks. 

“Cause I never seem to get enough, you're the bullet and you're making me drop. Please save me.”

_But the blue ones are pretty._

“So give me all of your super love, 'cause my body is so close to you, I'm waiting.” He gave a dramatic look to the mannequin next to him and snagged blue socks form the shelf.

“- Feels like I'm tripping, I'm falling hard from the highest heights,” Stiles swooned.  
  
“When I crash where will you be? I think your hair looks much better pushed over to one side,” singing he ran his hands through his hair. “How do you feel about me?”  
  
“S.O.S, this is real, and this is dangerous,” Stiles spoke the lyrics.

“You're my favorite drug, I smoke you in the c…” his mouth was left open when he took a second look to his left. Stiles put the music mute. Familiar eyebrows were raised to the hairline, his eyes were almost as wide as Stiles', and the man looked like he was trying to fight back a smile. His lip twitched.

_No, no no no no._

“I don’t think that ‘soaking through my _butt_ ’ is in the lyrics.” He was obviously trying hard to keep the straight face.

“Since when have you been there?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“From the middle of the first verse,” the man said almost smiling.

Stiles winced.

And the day had been really good for so far. But hey, he could always just turn around and get out. It would be like nothing had ever happened. _Yup._

Stiles took a step back and looked behind him when the voice talked to him, “Are you trying to flee again?” And now the beautiful asshole was actually smiling.

“Nope, no, of course I’m not doing any of that. Why would you say that? There’s no reason, none at all because here I am, standing, and not running,” he said fast.

“Really?”

“Really.”

The man took a step closer, and Stiles drew the socks close to him.

“You think I want your sock?” he laughed out.

“No, of course not, I just wanted to keep them close, so I can…keep them close.”

“I don’t need them,” he took another step.

“Good, because I do,” he waved them, and the green eyes followed them. Stiles saw a glint in them, and before he knew it the socks had been snatched from him. When Stiles finally reacted, he could nor get them back even thought he tried reach for them.

“You can’t do that! You just said you don’t need them,” Stiles said stunned.

“I don’t, but you do,” the fucker looked satisfied with himself.

“Are you serious?” Stiles let out frustrated sigh. Then the guy just walked off, with Stiles’ socks.

“What the fuck?” This was not okay. He took a look at the ones he still had in his hands. _I want the blue ones_ , he thought biting his lips.

Stiles kicked at the mannequin when he passed it, and the head fell off. He let out a desperate squawk trying to catch it without success. It rolled to the floor, and Stiles went after it.

_What was I even thinking, this day is the worst._

* * *

Stiles parked in front of the Beacon County Sheriff Station and took a look at the building while he collected the take-away food from the jeep. He walked straight to the front desk so he could ask where to find his dad.

“Um,” he mumbled.

“Yes,” the female deputy behind the desk took a fast glance at Stiles and continued handling the papers on her desk.

“I’m looking for the Sheriff Stilinski.”

“What is the matter about?” she said not really paying attention.

“Well, I guess I kind of have a meeting with him. He just told me to come here around three, and here I am. Also, I have food for him,” he said showing the boxes he was carrying.

Suddenly she gave him a curious look. It seems something woke her interest. “You are…” She looked at him from head to toes.

“I am?” he asked, and a smile spread on her face. “I guess you really are. Well I’ll be damned.” She turned around from her desk and gave a look at someone on the desk behind her.

_Should I be freaking out?_

“So could you tell me, where his office is?” Stiles tried, and the woman turned back to him smiling. “Of course dear. You just go straight there and pass the break room which is on the left, and you should see it from there,” she pointed to the right direction.

“Oh, thanks.” He offered her a shy smile.

“Anytime,” she said to Stiles who went past her. He could feel the eyes on his back. _Weird._

When he passed couple more desks, he noticed that people around office were trying to take quick glances at him. _Really weird._ He tried to hurry, and soon he saw the right door. He knocked it and heard from the other side: “It’s open.”

Stiles opened the door and stepped in to the room. “Oh, Stiles. Good timing,” John said and laid a binder on to his desk.

“Was it just me, or were the people in the office acting really creepy?” he took one more glance where he had came and closed the door behind him.

“Don’t mind them. They are just a curious bunch, but they mean no harm.”

It was weird having so much attention, but he just shrugged. “Oh I come bearing gifts,” Stiles announced and lifted the boxes to the table.

“I could use a break,” Sheriff said amused and put his work aside. "How's your day been."

"Fine. I've been reading some of the school books you got me. Only like couple of them."

"Couple of them? In what time? You got them yesterday."

"I like books. I did some reading when I couldn't sleep."

"You should sleep.”

"I do. It's just a new place, new faces. It takes time to get used to this. It's...different."

"Okay. But you should talk to me when there's something on your mind, anything at all."

Stiles shuffled his feet akwardly.

"Stiles..."

"Hmm?" Stiles turned to John's direction and gave a wicked smile when he saw what his father was looking at.

"-why is there carrots and no fries?"

 

* * *

 

Stiles felt shaky, his breathing sounded shaky. His hands were ice cold, and he could not calm down. He was sitting on his bed, back against the wall, hands around his knees. He was trying to make himself as small as possible. He closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again and repeated it countless times. It did not help. Everything felt unattached from the reality. He twisted his neck to uncomfortable positions so he could stare at the door, then at the window and the maple tree.

Everything went well at the station. Couple of officers had come to introduce themselves, and somehow they already knew who he was, not that it was surprising. Beacon Hills was not that big place, so of course people were talking about the Sheriff's mystery child. He almost wished that they would not. Too much attention, there is nothing good about it. Maybe they will forget him soon, _I just need to act normal. I can do that._  

He stood up and walked around the room. In the end, somehow, he ended up on the floor, standing on his hands. He stared at the upside scenery of his room and felt silly. “This doesn’t work,” he said to himself. Running helped sometimes, but he really did not feel like it at the moment. Also, the area was still unfamiliar to him. He could use medication, but he knew he should not take any more adderall on that day. Stiles was nervous. It was the new town, new school and the looks people gave him. It was almost like he was waiting something bad to happen. He always was.

But the worst that had happened to him in Beacon Hills was the guy he had run into twice before, and it had not been really a life threatening situation. It had been more like ‘please let me sink to the ground and die’ thing. It was not like worse had not happened to him before. Still, the embarrassment burned in his stomach.

He was now spread to the floor his right ear against the wood. Stiles frowned and rubbed his eyes with his left hand. _I want to smack his stupid face, his stupid unfair face._

He rolled on his back and stared at the ceilings. But it was not like they were going to see each other like ever again. It had been only two times, what three would be? Stiles could always ignore him, he was good at that. Ignoring problems, ignoring decisions, ignoring...life.

Finally, he was comfortable just staying in one place. Without thinking he created the image of the guy. _Yeah, not bad at all._

 

* * *

Stiles spent his evening reading through the school books his father had given him. History, math, physics, geography…he read them all. He was going to repeat the year, which he did not mind. He could do this, this was easy, effortless. He smiled, closed the book he had read and wiped its cover with his hand.

He made a new cup of tea. It was slightly better than what he had managed to make before, but he ended up just staring at the steaming liquid until it was not hot anymore.

He poured it down the sink.

When his dad got home they ate what Stiles had made. John talked about his day and Stiles about his, though he left out the encounter with the socks. They talked and listened to each other, and it felt like a dinner with family.  John talked about how excited the people had been after Stiles had visited. He had to lock his office door, because they were coming and going with their excuses because of the curiosity.

“I’m not really that interesting,” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You really think that?” John gave him a look.

“I know that,” he said and raised his class to John.

“Is that so,” the man just said quietly and smiled at Stiles silly gesture.

 _Actually that’s all I ever wanted to be._ Stiles returned the smile which might have been a bit sad, if you looked close enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what's going on with this chapter, so I am just going to leave it.  
> I really liked the new episode of Teen Wolf. Seriously, I think it is my favorite of the second part of season 3 (for so far). It was so frustrating because I had planned the SuperLove thing and I really felt like 'do I have to'. All I wanted to write was dark Stiles after watching 'Illuminated'. 
> 
> Also, I've been thinking how should I handle the whole Hale family thing, and I realize that there's something I need to do if I want to write one thing to the plot. So I guess, I have decided what's going to happen and I think that you guys are going to like that decision. But I'll come back to it later. There's going to be a lot of new characters in the next chapter.


	5. There’s paranoia in your veins

 

Stiles was leaning to the jeep and giving a skeptic look to the building in front of him. He bit his lips and fumbled with the hem of his shirt, fingers stretching the fabric. The boy wrapped a red hoodie around him. He should really move away from his car.

_No. I don’t think so._

His eyes were observing the scene. _Ugh, way too many people._

He gave a one more surrendered look to the parking lot and got into the car. He was just going to figure something else up.

Stiles searched for his keys from his pocket, but when he finally found them he heard his phone alarming about a new message. He sighed and took a look. It was from John – from his dad. _‘Good luck on your  first day at school_ ’, it said.

 _Not fair_ , Stiles pursed his lips together.

He kept staring at his phone’s screen like it would make the guilt go away. He had promised to try.

He took a deep breath and let out a frustrated noise when he opened the car door. Somehow, he managed to get out of the jeep. He took his pack and locked the door while muttering about how stupid this all was, and how he should have just become a hermit and lived the rest of his life in somewhere in the middle of woods. He could have started a hobby, _I don't know, gardening or some shit like that._

But who was he kidding? Stiles did not have enough patience to be isolated like that. But even if that was true, it did not mean that THIS was a good idea. Actually this was a horrible idea, the worst. And he knew that something will come haunting his ass later on.

“I don’t like this at all,” Stiles mumbled while he strode to the Beacon Hills High School.

 

* * *

 

Stiles had met the principal, and he got a paper where all his classes were marked in. Now he was following one of the teachers to the classroom.

_History_

He could hear someone talking in the room, the class had already started. _They couldn’t let me in before everyone else? This is just awful,_ he thought when the door was opened. The teacher called him in, “Join us Mr. umm-“

“Stilinski, just Stilinski is enough,” he already had gotten used to, no wait, gotten enough about teachers trying to pronounce his first name. Though, what he had not gotten used to was the eye pairs that had turned to look at him. He had not shared a last name with town’s Sheriff before. He turned to look out the window with a resigned look.

“Mr. Stilinski you can go sit there,” teacher pointed at empty seat which fortunately was not anywhere near the front row. He ignored everyone in the class when he passed them to get to his seat. It was next to window.

_Nice._

Teacher began to talk again. He sat, took his book out and turned to look in front of the class. That was when he finally noticed the boy sitting in front of him. He had turned to look at Stiles, grinning. Wait, he was- “Scott?” Stiles asked surprised.

“Hey you remembered me!” he said like Stiles had made his day. Maybe he had, it did not seems like you would have to do much to achieve it. The guy was all smile, sunshine and rainbows. Stiles was not sure if his eyes could handle this much positivity, he blinked. “Dude, you were the first person I met here. That’s pretty hard to forget,” he said amused.

“Right! This is so cool. I can’t believe we are in the same class,” Scott said sounding excited, “I didn’t know you were staying.”

“Neither did I, it kind of just happened,” he said dismissing.

“Well, I th-“

“Mr. Mccall!” Scott turned to look at the teacher.

“Uh, yes?”

“Please keep your eyes in the right direction. We are in the class,” the woman said eyebrows raised.

“Yes Mrs. Blake,” Scott muttered, and the class continued.

Stiles finally dared to take a look at the class. His eye met the brown ones which were studying him. They belonged to a girl who had long blonde wavy hair. She took a look at Scott then Stiles again. He got a weird feeling. He felt his nose itching. She gave him a big grin and turned away to scribble something in her notebook.

_Weird, creepy weird._

Right after that, he saw someone else doing the same thing that the girl had done, but this time it was a guy with a curly brown hair. He looked like he was weighting something but finally ended up turning back to look at the teacher.

 _I said it before, and I say it again, these people are crazy_. It felt like they had already planned how they are going to bury him alive into someone’s backyard. Or, maybe they were just curious. He truly hoped that that was the case when he opened his textbook.

The first class went fast. It was about something Stiles had actually studied before. He ended up drawing a paper full of empty circles.

 

* * *

 

When the lunch break came, Stiles was standing by his locker. He saw Scott approaching and a girl following him.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Stiles said and closed the door of his locker.

“It’s a lunch break. You want to sit with us?” Scott said smiling,” Oh, this is Allison.”

“Right, she must be part of your gang?” Stiles said, and Allison lip twitched.

“I’m Stiles.”

Allison smile was bright, “Stiles..?”

“Don’t ask and I don’t have to tell,” Stiles grinned, and Allison laughed.

“So?” Scott asked impatiently.

“I don’t know. I was thinking of looking around a bit.”

“Come on. You can do that later. We insist,” and apparently that was it, because Scott dragged him into the cafeteria. They found an empty table where they sat. Stiles was in his own thoughts when Scott asked worried, “Dude, is everything okay? You look a bit off. Like last time, you looked really sick.”

“No, I’m fine. Just was thinking about something. The first day and everything,” was all he said, and Scott nodded understanding.

Actually, there was something which had been bothering Stiles from the moment he stepped into the school. He cracked his neck and closed his eyes for a second, there was something here. He could feel it. It made him feel want to run miles and miles.

When he opened his eyes he saw a girl and a boy who came to sit next to them. Girl threw her red hair over the shoulder. “You don’t believe what Jackson actually said to me.”

“Come on Lydia, you know I didn’t-,“ the guy, most likely Jackson, said.

But the girl just ignored him and started talking to Allison, “Guys are such assholes.”

“Amen,” Allison said raising her water class.

Then Lydia finally noticed that there was someone extra sitting with them. She raised one of her perfect eyebrows. “Who is this?” she pointed at him.

“Oh that’s Stiles,” Scott said and took a bite of his sandwich.

“What the hell is _a Stiles_?” she sounded unimpressed.

“…My name.”

“Darling, that is just weird.”

“Yeah, people keep telling me that.”

Lydia just stared at him like she was trying to figure him out but gave up when she saw someone. Stiles turned around to take a look at who Lydia, who sat across him, saw getting closer. The blond girl and curly haired boy who had been in Stiles’ class were walking to their direction. Weird feeling was creeping on him.

When two of them reached to their table, blonde’s eyes sparked, “Oh my, if it isn’t Stilinski himself.”

“Stilinski?” Lydia asked.

“Yeah, haven’t you heard the news about our newest student? People sure are talking,” she said giving Stiles a predator smile. Then she turned to Scott. “I was a bit surprised that Scott knew him, though.”

Scott stuffed rest of the bread into his mouth. “I told you earlier that I met him last week when I was getting home from Pa-“ Allison had put her hand in front of Scott’s mouth.

“You should drink something or you choke,” Allison said and gave him a meaningful look.

“Yeah, thanks,” Scott said embarrassed and took a gulp of water. “Anyway, I met him when I was coming home from the meeting.”

“You really saved me that day, by the way. Thanks,” Stiles said to Scott who beamed.

“Anytime.”

“Anyway,” the blonde started again, “I’m Erica and this is Isaac,” she waved at the guy who had also been in the history class. He was giving Stiles suspicious looks. “And there’s Boyd,” she said smiling at the guy who was getting closer, “my boyfriend.” Boyd put his arm around Erica’s waist.

‘ _Nice to meet you’_ , he was going to say, but instead he took a look at their appearance and blurted out: “Is a leather jacket requirement for your gang members?”

Everyone in the table blinked. Stiles realized what he had just said. “Shit, sorry ignore me. Nice to meet you,” he said and opened his water bottle.

Erica started laughing, “Oh my god, he is great. Can we keep him?” She ruffled Stiles short hair.

“He is pretty awesome,” Scott said smiling.

“Good to be appreciated,” Stiles said to no one, and Erica’s smile grew wider.

“So who would have thought that Sheriff had a kid,” she said staring Stiles strangely. Everyone at the table turned to look at Stiles, who just muttered, “Right, _crazy_ thing.”

“Oh, I heard some rumors about that,” Lydia gave him a calculating look, looking actually interested.

“Wow, you’re Sheriff Stilinski’s son?!” Scott sounded amazed.

“Dumbass, didn’t you tell us that you took him to Sheriff’s house?” Jackson finally said something. Everybody gave him a look. “What? I do listen what he says, sometimes.”

“I thought he was just a relative, not a son,” Scott said and paused like he remembered something. “Didn’t you mention something about him not knowing about you or something?”

Stiles knew his face looked alarmed.

“I, no, I don’t think so,” Stiles shook his head instantly.

_Did I? I don’t think I actually said that to him. I was being careful, I wouldn’t have said that. How did he..?_

He rubbed his eyes. It felt suffocating for some reason. Why does it feel like this? It was like the whole hall was stuffed. Too much energy, it was intensive _. It is like…_ He took a look at the people sitting around him.

 _It couldn’t be…,_ Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly.

He had been doing this for his whole life, figuring nature of people, or rather nature of different creatures. Why the hell had not he noticed it earlier, the aura surrounding the whole table – it was overwhelming. _From who does it come from?_ He bit the head of his thump without thinking.

“By the way, why is he sitting with us?” Isaac finally said carefully.

“I asked him to,” Scott gave Isaac a look.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Isaac continued, not looking at Scott.

“You don’t decide that,” Scott sounded slightly annoyed.

“Scott, I’m just trying to…”

“That’s not your place Isaac,” Scott said the light voice all gone.

“Isaac has kind of a point. Nothing personal,” Lydia said and looked at Stiles.

“None taken,” _Dynamics.  
_

“In the end it isn’t really your choice either, Mccall,” Jackson gave a challenging look.

_They’re acting as a group._

“Don’t be an asshole Jackson,” Scott said, and the tension was getting unbearable.

“Oh you have no idea how I can be, McCall” Jackson spat out, and there it was. A blue glow in his eyes, gone before it even came.

 _Oh. My. God._ Stiles stopped breathing. He stared pass of them all, trying not to freak out.

He was in the middle of  a werewolf pack. _A freaking werewolves._

“I don’t think he should eat with us,” Isaac said quietly, but before anyone else could answer, Stiles opened his mouth, “Neither do I.” He sounded collected, not like he was in a breaking point, which was happening.

Everyone at the table turned to look at him. Stiles gave all of them a calm smile. He did not think it really reached to his eyes. They were wide, and he was panicking. “I mean it has been fun, but I really need to run,” Stiles wished his voice lasted to the last word. Then he just stood up, eyes following him as he collected his stuff. “It was nice to meet you all, but now if you excuse me I have to go and…” have a mental breakdown, “figure some things out.”

He actually had to stop himself from running out the cafeteria.

 _Fuck my life._ He stomped through the corridor wanting to scream, or cry, possibly both.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, maybe I should write longer chapters. I really wanted to skip the sunday and start the chapter 5 with Stiles going to school and end it in the way I did. Let's see what's going to happen with next one. Still, I had fun writing this and I like the title. The names of the chapter are from the lyrics of Gabrielle Aplin's songs. I forgot to mention it earlier.
> 
> (Is it bad the thing that what happening to Stiles in the newest tw episode is all I ever wanted? I really like where they are going with his storyline. It's going to be so emotional and so awesome.)


	6. Maybe I pulled the panic cord

 

Stiles was heading to his car.

 _I don’t know how to deal with any of this right now._  

He walked faster.

_I mean, what are the chances that I run away from supernatural things to a town which seems to be full of werewolves._

And why had he not noticed it earlier? Now when he thinks about it, it was obvious. It was all over the place.

Had he been so distracted and a fucking mess that he had not sensed it from Scott when they first met? Stiles knows that it is not always possible to catch every little detail. You cannot find something you are not looking for, and it was not like he had in his mind to find anything out. All he had had in his mind was to run away.

_Why didn't I even think that this might happen? There’s supernatural elements everywhere in the world, so why not in Beacon Hills?_

Stiles felt his car keys slipping through his fingers. _God, am I shaking?_

He picked them and got in to the jeep. He felt the cold sweat getting to him.

The good thing was that they seemed to be in control, not feral at all. He would not want to repeat his first encounter with a werewolf. The guy had been an omega, a rapid one. Stiles had almost lost his eye, but instead the wolf had ended up without his head. _So much blood,_ Stiles winced to the memory.

 _I need to get out. I should call dad. Yeah, I should do that._ He tried to find the phone, but picking up the phone and dialing ended up being harder thing to do than he thought. _Stop shaking!_

Finally he managed to make a call, and John answered pretty fast.

_“Stiles?”_

“D-dad?” and wow his voice sounded miserable.

 _“Something’s wrong?”_ he could hear the man getting up from the chair.

“I just wondered would you mind if I would skip the rest of the classes. I don’t think I can do this today. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. If I just could come back tomorrow, because right now I just can’t.”

_“Did something happen?”_

“Nothing bad, it’s just me. Something snapped in my head, and there are so many people - I can’t breathe.”

_“Where are you? Should I come to get you?”_

“No! No, I’m in the jeep, just sitting. I just need to take a second.”

_“Okay, don’t worry about school. I give them a call later.”_

“Thanks.”

_“You are okay, right?”_

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s not like I’m going to drop dead or anything.” That would be just silly after all he had gone through.

_“Really?”_

“Really! Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m going to go to the pharmacy and then home. I mentioned earlier that I need to go there to ask about my medication, right?”

 _“Yes, or you could go straight to home,”_ his dad sounded hopeful.

“It won’t take long, and I really want to do something. Right now I can't to just sit around and do nothing. This will help, trust me.”

John sighed, _“Okay. See you later kiddo.”_

“See ya,” Stiles said and lowered his phone.

_I need to get my head straight. My god, I feel like a crazy person._

He drove out of the school parking lot, but it did not take long until he stopped the car beside the road.

“How do I stop shaking!?” he let out frustrated shout and hit his hands to the wheel. He tried to open his seatbelt, but it took long enough to make Stiles feel useless. He ended up pulling it hastily, until he somehow managed to slip out of the car. The car was parked to the edge of forest, and Stiles rushed out to the woods. He walked fast deeper to the forest.

_It’s not like they know that I know. And they don’t know about me and they don’t need to._

Stiles stopped walking when he felt something wet on his feet. Somehow, he had walked into a puddle. He hastily tried to step out but he already felt how the freezing water had soaked through his shoes.

“Fuck! Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!” he looked down and saw the line in his pants where the water had reached.

“Seriously?!” he shouted to the empty forest.

Stiles closed his eyes and took another deep breath, his fingers rubbing his face. “What am I even doing?” he sighed.

“Seriously,” he said, more quietly this time, and took a one more defeated look at his wet shoes. He turned back to where he had come from. His shoes squeaked when he walked. Stiles had not realized how far he had walked until now, but at last he saw his car where the trees ended. He felt stupid for leaving his car doors open. He got into the car and was surprised to find out that he was not feeling as panicky as before.

But still...

“I hate my life. It’s cruel and confusing. Also, stressing like hell, and here I am talking to myself after taking a swim in a puddle.” _Maybe this isn't even real_ , he thought and looked at his hands. “No, still a very much awake,” he muttered after counting his fingers. Not that it made him feel any better.

He found himself staring at nowhere. _I can ignore the wolves. They don’t know me, they won’t miss me_. He liked Scott thought. He would have been a good friend. _Who needs friends anyway_ , he smiled sadly. _I’ve been doing fine until now_. And he had had friends, kind of. Why was his life so freaky?

Still, he would hate to act like an asshole towards other people, if that was what it would take. Getting know them was not a good idea. No way in hell. Maybe there was not any other choice this time. He did not want to leave his _home_. Anyway, they would just bring troubles to each other.

 _So Scott is a wolf, and so must be Jackson._ He thought about the others. _Isaac – definitely._ When Erica’s smile crept back to his mind he gulped – _obviously._

 _Erica’s boyfriend might be as well. At least he had the whole club uniform code going on._ Stiles managed snigger.

He could not be sure from Allison, she might be. The girl got that fighter look, he could tell that much. But Lydia, Stiles was almost sure she was not a wolf. But she was surely something. He had felt the aura, _and the way she looked at me. It was like she could see straight through anything._ It made him feel anxious. The boy bit his lips.

Suddenly he reminded himself that maybe this was not the best place to analyzing the whole situation. The earlier puddle incident returned to his memory when he felt the damp sock on his feet.

 _Let’s just get this over with so I can go home_ , he stared at his feet before starting the car. He felt calmer – but not even slightly better.

 

* * *

 

“When you try your best but you don’t succeed-“ Stiles sang along with the radio when he drove his jeep in front of the pharmacy. “When you feel so tired, but you can't- damn this song is about my life,” Stiles muttered convinced. He turned the radio off and got out of the vehicle.

Stiles asked about his prescription from the pharmacist who seemed understanding toward Sheriff’s son. Soon they were done talking, and Stiles was glad that something went smoothly. John had asked him to bring some band-aid in the morning when Stiles had told him about his plans. After all, this was what Stiles had planned to do anyway after school.

Stiles was standing in front of the shelf, staring at the products. It was like all of his energy had drained out. It was confusing, like he could not really focus on anything.

“I feel dead inside,” he said not completely serious. He did feel blank, though. 

Stiles pocked at the Batman band-aid box, when he heard someone saying, “…Seriously?”

When he lifted his eyes from Hello Kitty’s face, he saw something easier to his eyes. 

_It’s not fair that someone has a face like that._

It was the same guy who had caught him singing in the middle of the store while shopping, but in like a totally normal adult way. The same guy from the cereal incident. Not embarrassing at all.

Stiles had come up with million come backs, if he would ever run into him again, but in the end all he said was, “Hey.”

“Uh, hey,” the other said after he blinked like he had not expected it.

Stiles had expected something more…well, he had expected _something_ , but instead they just looked at each other, first confused, then bothered.

“Can we just, you know?” Stiles started.

“A truce, yeah.” And the other man looked as relieved as Stiles felt.

“Thank god, I have no energy left to carry any grudge to anyone.”

“Same,” the guy said and let out a loud sigh.

“A rough day?” Stiles asked.  


The guy’s phone started to ring. He looked tired and annoyed, but Stiles could not decide which more.

“Yes,” he answered to Stiles and apparently blocked the call. He looked at Stiles, “You?”

“You have no idea.” 

The older man was probably looking at the bags under Stiles' eyes.

“Oh you think so?” and like from the cue he got a text, and you could tell from his look that it was not the first one on that day. “These fucking idiots,” he cursed with a low voice, and Stiles would be lying if he said that it did not make him shiver at all.

When the next text came, the man looked at the phone like he wanted to throw it through the window and then shoot it with something. Maybe drive over it a few times with his car. Stiles could relate.

“You could just turn it off.”

“I wish I could, but I have some responsibilities,” the man blocked the next call that came.

“Wow, way to be responsible,” Stiles said with a mocking voice and raised his eyebrows.

“They can text and they do text, all the fucking time. And I can tell from the ones I got that it’s nothing serious.” And the phone rang. “I hate my life.”

“I'd drink for that.”

“Are you even legal,” the other said with smile playing on his lips.

“I’m old enough to drink in most of the European countries.”

“You’ve been in Europe?”

“Never,” Stiles said grinning, and the phone rang again. 

The man glared at it and the ringtone stopped dead.

“I’m impressed,” Stiles said. _He was_.

He got an honest smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“One of my many excellent qualities.”

“I remember you denying it earlier.”

“I changed my mind. Sometimes you just have to embrace your quirkiness,” he said grinning.

“So what’s eating you?” the man sounded actually interested, and Stiles took a long considering look.

“Nothing, everything, life,” he ended up saying, and the other nodded understanding.

"Your shoes are wet," he pointed out.  


"Not my finest moments."  


He ended up looking Stiles like he was wondering something and finally said, “This is really weird.” Stiles gave just a questioning look, and the guy continued, “This is the second time in a year, I’ve had to come to pharmacy and you just happen to be here. You just happen to be _everywhere_.” 

“Hey, I’m not following you. Stalking would totally ruin my game.”

“You have a game?”

“I do,” Stiles tried to say seriously.

“You are…” but he never finished the sentence, “I’m not implying that any stalking is going on, it’s just weird coincidence, that's all.”

“It is. There should be a coupon where I could collect stamps every time I run into you. With three I would get a muffin.”

“A muffing?”  


“Yes, jeez let the man have his muffin. Is that too much to ask?” Stiles said joking.

“I guess not.”

“Huh?” Stiles looked at him eyes wide.

“It’s not much to ask. Let’s get you a muffin,” the man looked way too amused.

* * *

Stiles had no idea how it all happened, but somehow he had ended up sharing a table in a local café with the handsome stranger. In front of him was a cup of tea and a big chocolate muffing which tasted like heaven. He could not say the same about the tea. Stiles ended up staring at the other man’s coffee.

“Why did go order a cup of tea if you don’t even like it?”

“I’m waiting it to taste good. It’s just not happening,” Stiles said and continued looking at the steaming coffee, until the other one let out a sigh and slid the mug to the younger man.

“Is this an apology from the socks?”

“No way, I had all the rights to do that. You have no idea what kind of complains I got when I returned without the “best fucking cereals in the world”,” he quoted. “Women can be scary.”

“I agree with that,” Stiles hummed after he took a gulp of the coffee. “This is heaven.”

Derek stood up to go get another cup for himself. When he returned Stiles opened his mouth, “You know, you’re not as grumpy as I thought.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Yes you kind of are, but I think it’s charming. Just like me being ridiculous. We can’t change who we are. Just keep swimming.”  The man other let out a laugh, and Stiles’ grin grew wider. _He truly has a nice smile._

“Did you just use a quote from Finding Nemo?”

“So, you have seen it,” Stiles leaned closer. He was feeling giddy about the new discovery.

“I have little siblings.”

 “You don’t have to explain. I’m just slightly offended that you feel like you need to keep it from me.” Stiles shook his head.

“I don’t know how to deal with you,” he made it sound like he was admitting something.  


“You are not the first one,” he said and drank the rest if his coffee. Then he reached for the other cup, but his table companion slapped his hand away.

“That’s mine, and it’s not good to drink that much coffee.”

Stiles shrugged and then the phone rang. The guy looked at the screen but this time he actually answered.

“Laura, what’s going on?”

"-"

“No, I don’t really care if they call to you.”

"-"

“Yes, everything’s okay. And there’s nothing to worry about.”

"-"

“Okay, I’m coming just calm down,” he sighed sounding defeated.  


"-"

“See you at mom’s.” He ended the call, “I need to go,” he told to Stiles.

“I probably should get going too. Thanks for the company, and for the muffin, and for the coffee.”

“No problem,” he said and put his leather jacket on. He saw Stiles giving him a look so he cocked his eyebrows.

“Do you ride a motorcycle or something?” Stiles blurted out before they got out of the café.

“No, I ride that,” he said and pointed at the black camaro.

“Oh wow,” Stiles murmured after seeing the car. “Now that is ridiculous,” Stiles turned to say.

“Think what you want,” was all he got back. The guy gave Stiles a pat on the shoulder when he passed him.

When Stiles was sitting in the jeep, he was quiet for a moment feeling slightly confused. 

_I think I might be a bit turned on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You remember when I mentioned about writing longer chapters? Yeah, not going to happen. It's easier to post it right away when I write something. 
> 
> It seems you guys want Stiles to find out about Derek BUT it's not going to happen yet. I have this (kind of) planned out.  
> Thank you so much for the comments and reading this fic! I'm most likely going to post another chapter later on this week. 
> 
> Tomorrow there's going to be a new TW episode. Can't wait! I mean like holy shit, how badass was Stiles in the last episode, or well "Stiles".


	7. You're a Spark without flame

 

When Stiles got home he could not stay in one place for long. He watched television for barely half of an hour, emptied washing machine and stared at the bird shit stain in the window of living room. He ended up washing the whole window. After that he made half through some sport magazine, but he found much more interesting surfing in the internet and reading all the bizarre stuff happening in the winter Olympics. _Get your shit together Shotsi.  
_

He was startled when John called him, and somehow he managed to sweep every single thing off the table to the floor. Stiles looked at the mess gravely and picked up the phone.

“Hey – dad.” - _the hell?_ did he say dad? Since when had he been calling him ‘dad’?

_“Hi Stiles, how are you doing?”_

“I’m good, really good, well not really _really_ good but better – yeah, better.”

 _“I’m glad to hear,”_ John sounded relieved. _“Stiles, I was going to invite one of my friends to have dinner with us. She used to know your mom and she seemed really excited to meet you.”_

“Wow, really? I mean like, why not?”

_“But since you called me I’ve been thinking that maybe we should do it some other time? You should rest and take it easy.”_

“You don’t have to cancel. I really am feeling much better. I just got anxious earlier. Sorry about that.”

_“Son, you don’t have to be sorry about those kinds of things.”_

“Yeah…well anyway, you should call to this friend of yours –“

_“Melissa.”_

“- to Melissa and invite her over, and I’ll make something awesome with my first class culinary skills.”

_“We could just order something.”_

“We aren't offering takeaway to a guest,” Stiles tried to sound offended. “Also, I really need something proactive to do.”

_“If you say so, oh and she might bring her son along, he’s a good kid.”_

“I’ll make enough food to feed an army. I’ll make it my mission.”

 _“Sounds good. What do you want me to bring from the store?_ ”

“I’ll text you a list about the ingredients in a moment.”

_“Okay. And Stiles…”_

“What?”

_“Try not to pressure yourself too much. You don’t need to try too hard, and remember that you can talk to me anytime.”_

Stiles did not say much after that, and the call ended. He stared at the phone which still was in his hand. _‘_

_You don’t have to try too hard’ he said. I wonder if anyone had ever told me that. Well, except mom, but mum was – yeah._

* * *

 

Stiles was sitting on the floor at downstairs. He had been thinking hard about something for awhile. It was about his senses. It was like everything felt really stuffy, almost in the same way when you have flu but without any of the nasty side effects. He was having a fucking magical flu, great.

Stiles had tried to put some protections around the house. They were something like an alarm if something threatening was getting closer, it connected him to this place. He had read about wards from one of his mother’s books. But still, it was confusing.

If he was honest, it felt like he had been losing the touch with his spark. It made him worried because he felt different, but it was not like he had any use for things like this before. Everyone had always been interested in his other kinds of abilities. Now he was trying to teach himself, but how can you be sure you are doing it right when no one is telling you?

“Maybe it’s supposed to feel like this.”

He still was not completely convinced of it.

Stiles scraped the floor with his fingernails _. Since when have I’ve been so emotionally unstable?_ A little piece of wood dug under his nail. _Ouch._

He went lying on the floor. _Something’s off. It’s like I’m feeling everything and then nothing._

_I used to have everything in control._

Right after he snorted, because who was he kidding? He had never been in control.

_Maybe I need some therapy. Is there a one that’s specialized with nutcases who has supernatural abilities? There’s a serious marketing hole right there._

He put his palm against the floor. Now that he concentrated he did sense something, a car getting closer.

_Just dad._

Stiles listened him unlock the front door. Soon John walked to the living room where Stiles was speared next to the couch.

“What are you doing on my floor?”

“I’m trying to figure life out,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, I think you should try to figure it out on the sofa.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine here,” he waved the man off.

“What a confusing kid,” the man said. “Is this a normal teenager behavior?”

“No, I think it’s just me.”

The man shook his head and turned the television on. The women’s biathlon competition was on. Stiles turned his head so that his right cheek was resting on the floor.

“Maybe I should start a new hobby.”

John raised his eyebrows, “I don’t think you can ski here.”

“Haha. I was thinking more like a regular everyday sport I can practice. I could use for some extra activity. What sport do they prefer in Beacon Hills?”

“Lacrosse.”

“Seriously?” Stiles lifted himself from the floor with his hands so he could see the Sheriff. “But hey, I’ve never tried it. I don’t have really any image about the whole thing.”

“You might be surprised.”

“I think about,” he said and got up. “I’m going to start cooking!” he noted to John when he entered to the kitchen. It was almost like they had gotten into some kind of a routine. It was nice.

* * *

 

When the doorbell rang Stiles checked how the chicken breasts looked in the oven. _Still needs more time._

John had already opened the door when Stiles walked to the corridor. He could hear them chattering loudly, but they paused when the woman standing in front of the door frame saw Stiles. Her expression changed from surprised to gentle and wistful. He could identify her from the photograph that was on the table of the living room, the one where she had her arms around Stiles mother’s shoulder, and they both were smiling brightly.

Stiles gave her a shy smile. “Hi.”

“Hello dear. I’m Melissa,” she said and rushed past John. “Wow, look at those eyes.” Melissa sounded emotional. “Just like Claudia,” she said, turned to John and he nodded smiling gently. Then she turned back to Stiles. “You know I always told that John and she had nice genes.”

Stiles blushed, John sighed and someone groaned, “Mom…”

“Oh, right! That's my son Scott. What are you still standing there, come in,” Melissa told.

“Hi Stiles,” Scott greeted him with a crooked smile. “Sheriff.”

“Hello Scott,” the older man said.

Stiles eyes went wide and mouth to straight line. _Umm, what?_

“What happened dude? I didn’t see you at school after lunch. It’s like you disappeared.” Scott sounded worried.

“I – something came up and I had to leave, but I’m fine now. It was nothing serious.” He forced a smile. This definitely was not going as he would have liked.

“That’s good.” Scott smiled and then remembered something. “You don’t mind that Isaac tagged along. He has been living with us for a while, you know,” and Stiles did not know but apparently John did, so he just went along with it.

“Of course, he’s welcome,” John said.

“Come on, Isaac stop moping on the porch,” Scott said brightly.

 _So that’s it for ‘the werewolf-free house’._ Stiles stared blankly at the two teenagers in front of him, Scott beaming like a fucking sun and Isaac looking as sulky as before in the cafeteria. _Great._

“Uh, I think I should go to take a look if the chicken is ready.” Stiles glanced at the kitchen’s direction looking his chance to escape.

“He cooks?” Melissa asked from John, eyebrows raised. “All mine does is gather dust on my sofa.” She gave a meaningful look at her son.

“I do…things,” Scott said wounded and Melissa Laughed. Isaac’s lips twitched.

“Come on people, let’s move to the living room,” John said sounding amused.

“I was thinking that maybe I could go with Stiles and help him,” Scott said looking at Stiles.

“Yeah okay,” he answered not knowing what else to say, and the other boy followed him waving at Isaac to follow them. _I  really need a plan b.  
_

“Don’t let him help you with the food!” they could hear Melissa’s voice from the other room.

“I’m not actually such a disaster as she makes it sound,” Scott said embarrassed.

“Keep on trying to convince yourself that,” Isaac said and that was the first time Stiles had actually seen him smile.

Stiles opened the oven to take a look. It looked good and…”Wow that smells incredible,” Scott sounded amazed. _…Yeah._

Even Isaac looked impressed when Stiles set the food to the table. Scott turned to Isaac and said seriously, “I want to keep him.”

Isaac just snorted, “Do what you want, but I’m not telling to _you know who_.”

Stiles felt slightly uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, _they aren't death eaters, right?_   Also, he was alone in the kitchen with two werewolves. _How did that happen?_ He stared at the kitchen wall like it would give him some answers. If anyone was wondering, it did not.

“You are no fun,” Scott said pouting and tried to snatch a piece of feta from the salad, but Stiles automatically slapped his hand away.

“Have you even washed your hands?” he could not help asking. Scott went silent and looked sheepish. He started to wander around the room, Isaac on the other hand was sitting on the table and Stiles tried his best to ignore the wolf’s shameless staring.

“So,” Scott tried to sound nonchalant but failed terribly, “how have you liked BH?”

“It’s been,” Stiles tried to think the best answer, “different.”

“-than?” now it was Isaac who had spoken.

“-than where I came from,” he could see that it was not a satisfying answer, so he added, “I’m from north,” which was not much more specific.

“Right,” Scott said sounding a bit disappointed about the lack of information. “So how come did you decide to come here?”

“Well, I had some ‘family problems’,” he decided to be honest, “I didn’t want to deal with them anymore, and I found about dad – John,” he corrected fast feeling his cheeks flushing, “so I left.”

Isaac seemed to be fixated to Stiles last words. There was something in the way he looked at Stiles. Stiles had to turned away quickly feeling nervous.

“You ran away?” Scott asked slowly and Stiles shrugged. It did not need to be said, and the others let it go.

Stiles had to admit that the rest of the dinner was actually rather nice. It was a new feeling to have so relaxed atmosphere, and he had not really expected it from the company. Scott chattered about lacrosse and even dragger Isaac to join to the conversation. Stiles was still skeptical about the whole sport, even though Scott seemed pretty convinced that it was the 'best thing ever'. When Stiles mentioned as a joke that he was seriously considering the sport where cross-country skiing and shooting were combined, he could not help laughing at other boy’s horrified expressions.

Yeah, things really were not going the way he had hoped.

Stiles looked at the people around the table. Maybe he needed to figure something else out.

 

* * *

 

_“Run, run little boy_

_Eyes like fire, voice full of joy_

_You’re far, far almost gone_

_Still there’s something you should have known_

_You used to try to close your eyes_

_At that way you could always hide_

_But no far, is far enough_

_So why won’t you just give up?_

_Here I am. I always was_

_So till then, try to be safe and check your locks_

_But don’t you dare to not be afraid_

_Because the doors are actually easy to break_

_I’m going to find you, you know that right?_

_Feed you to the wolves and make you cry_

_It’s going to happen_

_Every_

_Single_

_Time”_

* * *

 

Stiles woke up familiar voice ringing in his ears. He was breathing heavily, heart drumming in his chest rabidly.

“No,” he let out with a dry desperate voice. “No they can’t,” he cried out.

_They 're trying to find me._

Stiles gathered his blanket to his arms, holding it close to him. He felt paranoid scanning his room’s every corner. He knew that they could not be here, not yet at least. Suddenly he scrambled out of the bed and rushed to the window. He looked outside, hoping not to see anything unusual.

_Nothing, there’s nothing._

He tried to hold himself together, but his eyes were feeling awfully wet for some reason. He closed his eyes, rested his head towards the cold glass and took a deep breath. It was not fair. He’s fine and suddenly not. It was like a fucking never ending emotional rollercoaster.

The voice he had heard was familiar. Oh yes, he knew her. She was a creepy one, you never really know if she was on your side or not. Was this a threat or a warning? It did not make any sense but he hoped it was the latter one.

_Fuck the werewolves, this might be even a bigger problem._

Had he really thought everything through? Had he missed something?

No, no, he had covered his tracks. He left believable copies of the files to his fosters, he had even set fake trails! But there are things you cannot make disappear, there were connections as long as you are alive. After all, you cannot hide your mind.

“I was so –“ he breathed in “ -so careful,”  and out. Stiles felt his nails digging into his palms, almost breaking the skin. When he opened his eyes, he saw his own reflection from the window, complexion white and eyes looking frantic.

“I need to think,” he said aloud and put on jeans and a coat. He felt frustrated trying to find his left shoe, but soon he saw it peeking under the bed.

He rushed out of the house and walked fast along the side of the road. Stiles continued walking when he got nearer to the woods. Dead leaves were crushing under his feet as he took more steps to get further, to somewhere where he could actually think. But the place never came, so he just walked. Somehow he came to his senses and realized that he had no idea where he was going, so when he felt like he was calm enough, Stiles sat down on a rock.

He had no idea how long he sat there, but he was startled when he heard someone’s footsteps getting closer. He turned around expecting it to be an axe-murderer or an angry feral wild animal. Fortunately, it was neither of those, but Stiles was nevertheless surprised to see his new Beacon Hills shopping buddy.

“This is private property,” the guy said but he did not sound angry. Someone could have gotten the wrong impression, though, because of the scrunched eyebrows, but when someone buys you a muffing - it is hard to consider them scary anymore.

“I was just passing by.” Stiles got up, took a step back and brushed his hand through his hair feeling uncomfortable.

“At this time?” and he did not sound skeptical, nope. Not at all.

Stiles bit his lips, “Yes…”

They both were quiet for the moment, Stiles avoiding the eye contact. He rather looked anywhere else than the man. Stiles did not think that the other would actually drop it, but suddenly he heard a sigh, “Okay,” and then their eyes finally met. There was another pause and for some reason Stiles felt an urge to explain himself.

“I just needed to think,” he glanced at his hands, they were shaking. “But I -,” Stiles was struggling with his words but the other waited patiently, “I just can’t. There’s so much I don’t know how to deal with.”

“Sit down,” Derek said. Stiles did as he was told, without a word. “Just take your time,” and he did.

For twenty minutes they just sat there side by side, until Stiles finally asked, “Have you ever wanted to run away?”

“Yes,” the guy answered after thinking a little while, “You?”

“I already have.”

“From where, or to where?"

“To here,” Stiles smiled sadly and waved his hands, “to Beacon Hills.”

“I have done it too. I mean, I was running for a long time. I went places, saw things but somehow I ended up coming back.”

“From what were you running from?” It was weird having so effortless conversation about such a difficult topic.

He smiled. “You know, the funny thing is that I still don’t know. I thought that I wanted to, no, needed to be on my own and for once have my own choices. That probably wasn’t the case, though.” Then he turned to look the younger man. “What about you? Did it make you feel any better?”

“In a way,” Stiles weighed his words, “but I’m scared that the things I left behind will come back to haunt me. I’m so fucking afraid.” It felt weird to say it aloud.

“If it happens, then you have to fight back.”

“Truthfully,“ Stiles looked into the green eyes and whispered, “I don’t think I’m strong enough."

“Then ask for help.”

“I don’t know how.” He looked at the sky which had gotten lighter from the rich dark blue it had been before. "-and from who." Stiles could feel other man's eyes looking at him.

“I need you to repeat after me,” he said after thinking a bit.

“Huh,” Stiles blinked confused.

“Say _: Derek, can you help me_?”

“I don’t think-“

“Come on, humor me.”

“Derek.”

“Yes?”

“-can you help me.” He felt silly and the embarrassment was burning his face.

“Okay,” the man said and smiled when Stiles let out a laugh.

“What’s with that?” he was biting back a grin.

“I promised to help you,” he said like it was the most simple thing in the world.

“Really? It can't be that easy.”

“It is.”

Stiles was surprised to find out that maybe Derek really was not as grumpy as he had thought before. He seemed more relaxed and easier to approach.

Stiles realized suddenly something and let the smile spread to his face. “So, Derek.”

“Yes?”

“No, I mean that’s your name?”

The man looked taken back. “That’s right.”

“Huh.”

“So what’s yours?” Derek asked eyebrows cocked.

“I don’t know if I really want to tell,” he squinted his eyes and tried to look like he was thinking hard. “You’re going to think that I’m just some really weird kid with a bizarre name.”

“I already think you’re bizarre” Derek stated the fact.

“…A valid point.”

“So?”

“I’m St-,“ his voice was cut by his phone ringing. When Stiles saw the caller he grimaced, “Shit.” He had forgotten his dad. _What time was it?_

“Hey! – Dad,” Stiles said trying to sound like he just had not freaked out and run into the woods like a crazy person, because he was not one, not yet at least, or at least he was really hard trying to act like he was not one.

_“Where the hell are you?”_

“Um…taking a walk?”

_“Was that a statement or a question?”_

“No, I mean I AM taking a walk,” he corrected. _This is not going well_.

_“In the middle of the night?”_

“Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “I know how this sounds, but I woke up and I couldn’t sleep and I needed to do something. Sorry,” his voice sounded unsually high.

_“Just come home. We will talk tomorrow. You should try get some sleep. You’re still going to school tomorrow, no wait, today?”_

“Yes, and I’m coming home straight away.” He mouthed Derek ‘Sorry’ and he looked understanding.

“Bye dad!” he ended the call. “I need to go back.”

“I should too,” Derek said but looked a bit distracted.

“What were you doing here by the way?”

“My family owns the land. My house is nearby. I take walks sometimes when I have too much energy to sleep.”

Stiles nodded and could not find any reason to keep the conversation going.

“Thanks for listening,” was the last thing he said, Derek gave him a small smile and they both turned into different directions.

It felt cold to leave from Derek's side. He tried not to think about it too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM! Done. I was too lazy to check the grammar, so please don't mind it. I am just going to go to lie on the floor, and pretend that I have some kind of idea about my future, yup. That's a good idea.
> 
> Thanks for reading, you wonderful person.


	8. We moved faster than fate

 

The boy opened his eyes slowly, his eyes fluttering back open to close. He just rest there peacefully and listened his own breathing in the quiet room. It all was very dream-like, though, he knew that he was not asleep anymore. The thing was, he could not remember the last time he had not woken up trying to catch his breath because of being terrified about the nightmares. So for now, he was just content to lie there.

When Stiles finally opened his eyes fully he saw the white ceilings above him. He tilted his head trying to remember anything from the time he had been asleep, but nothing. It was like he had not seen any awful dreams after he went back to bed last night, or not that he remembered any. He felt tired because he had not actually slept that much, but otherwise he felt fine. The smile was forming to his lips. _I feel fine._

He got up after a moment of yawning and just stretching there. When he was opening the wardrobe the alarm went. He hurried to shut it. Stiles glanced out of the window and saw the cloudy sky. Still, it felt like something in his mind had cleared.  But at the same time something – or rather someone was stuck in his head.

There was a man who had offered his help, a man who was able to be sour and rude but still so caring. Stiles did not quite know how to deal with it. He did not feel like he deserved help, and Derek had so easily told that he was there for Stiles. For god sake, he did not even know Stiles name!

His heart was drumming, and it felt too much to handle.

Stiles had felt attracted to people before, it just might be that he had never actually done anything to his feelings. It was not like he had had a chance before, there had been so much going on in his life. But he did not think that he would have a chance now because, let's face it, he was still sailing in the middle of the sea of shit. And if Derek knew, he would not have offered anything. It was not right. These were his own problem, and if that meant that he would have to leave again, he would. _In a way or another_ , Stiles swallowed.

Derek was just being nice, right? Stiles bit his lips, _really nice._ He glared at the red hoodie in his hands. It was unfair that he would meet such person. Derek was too - _everything_ , if you would compare him to Stiles. Because Stiles, he was a trouble magnet, he talked too much, he was noy that great looking, he had a horrible past which comes haunting him in every single day and he did not even like lacrosse. _I bet Derek loves it like everyone else in this town._

It all felt useless. He touched his chest trying to get used to the unfamiliar feeling. It felt intolerable.

“Not fair at all,” he groaned and sat on the bed hiding his face to his hands. He felt awfully flustered when he finally walked out of his room fully clothed. Stiles was greeted by his father who watched him entering the kitchen.

“Morning.”

“What’s up?”

“That’s how you’re going to start after disappearing last night?” Sheriff had his eyebrows raised, Stiles winced.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he remained standing beside the door.

“Still you did,” he gave Stiles a meaningful look.

“It’s just that I’m a bit of a mess, and I’ll probably always be. I know I’m screwing everything up.” Stiles nervously brushed his fingers againts the door frame, looking at his fingers moving along the smooth surface which was painted white.

“No, no you aren’t,” he shook his head.

“But I really am. It’s killing me because I can’t do anything about it.” He sounded helpless. He hated how whiny he was.

“Stiles,” John said gently, “you need to listen to me. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Stiles tried to avoid eye contact. “How many times do I have to tell you?  You can always talk to me.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to see it.”

“It? There’s nothing that would make me to tell you to leave.”

“What if there is?” Stiles started. “What if, I’m much more screwed up person than you could even image?”

“Then we will figure it out,” John said immediately.

"How come everyone's able to make my problems seem so easy to be solved?" he let out desperate laugh.

“Maybe you just make it sound too hard.”

“I-,“ it made Stiles go quiet. His eyes were trying to focus on anything but everything seemed blurred.

“Yeah,” John smiled at him, “now, take a cup of coffee.”

Stiles bit his lips and turned to look at the clean cups on the shelf. “No, I think I’m going to drink tea.”

He drank the cup only half empty.

 

* * *

 

“When Stiles got to the school he was tackled by Scott.

“Dude, you came!”

“It’s school. Like I have any choice.” Stiles was surprised how honest his own smile was.

“I feel you, bro,” Scott said shaking his head.

And as the day went forward, somehow Stiles was again sitting in the same table with same people as yesterday. He guessed that Scott and Isaac had said something because none of them were asking about his sudden appearance to Beacon Hills, and Stiles did appreciate it. He was satisfied that he could sit next to them just following lazily the conversation. It was nice that he did not have to sit alone, regardless that everyone in this table were most likely in a werewolf pack. For now, he would just let it go.

Suddenly someone he had not met before sat beside him.

“Oh my god yesterday was the worst! I can’t believe I was the only one who had to go through it,” girl with a long dark hair gave death glare to the others, “Mom invited this…” but she did not finish the sentence when he saw who she was sitting next to.

“Wait, I don’t know you.” she stared at Stiles and turned to Lydia, “Who’s this?” but instead Jackson answered.

“Stilinski.”

“Stiles!” Scott beamed.

“Transfer student,” Stiles heard Boyd speak for the first time.

“Sheriff’s mystery child,” grinned Erica.

“I think, Scott wants to adopt him,” commented Isaac.

“Something, I’m still trying to figure out,” Lydia finally said.

The girl’s eyes followed anyone who was speaking. “Well, he sure is a lot of things.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” Stiles said continuing eating, and she turned to look him amused.

“I’m Cora and sometimes I hang out with these losers.” Jackson’s face said something like ‘Bitch please’ and she grinned widely.

“Must be a wolf,” Stiles said without thinking and everyone snapped to look at him.

“Excuse me?” Lydia said at the same time Cora said, “What?”

“…what?” Stiles stuttered. _Did I just say that aloud?_

“You said something about -“

“- Wolves! Yeah I was just thinking about something I read earlier,” he tried to save the situation, “something about north America’s nature, nothing to do with Beacon Hill’s or anything. It not like you have any wolves here, right?” he let out almost believable laugh.

“No!” they all cried out together sounding panicked. “We don’t have, like none at all!” Scott added and Jackson elbowed muttering ‘ _shut up idiot_ ’.

Stiles was impressed how believable he had sounded. Fortunately, they got distracted and let it go, though, Lydia was giving him more and more suspicious looks. Cora, on the other hand, was much more interested in talking about the other day.

“So anyway, as I was saying we had visitors. They stayed the whole weekend and left yesterday. I don’t think I have ever met so infuriating people but it was almost worth it. You should have seen Derek’s face. He was so ready to rip someone’s face off…” her eyes were gleaming. Stiles brain packed up to process what he heard.

“Wait, who is Derek?”

“I think I have mentioned him at some point to you,” Scott said to Stiles.

“Really?” He was not sure.

“He did,” Isaac said.

“Uh, okay.” Stiles tied to bring back the memory.

“Why are you so interested?” Cora poked her salad.

“I don’t know. I just met one Derek last week and we’ve been running to each other couple of times,” he trailer off.

Cora looked up. “Really?” she said suddenly sounding interested.

“Yeah, I guess we have been hanging out or something.”

“Derek doesn’t hang out,” everyone except Stiles in the table said in unison.

“Never,” Isaac added.

“Not even with his friends,” Erica continued.

“I’m his sister and he doesn’t want to spend that much time around me,” Cora said at first trying to look sad, but Stiles could see her smirking like she was thinking about some specific memory.

“I’m not surprised,” Jackson said.

Cora ignored him and turned to Stiles. “What exactly have you been doing with _this_ _Derek_?”

“Um, we have been talking and…I don’t know he bought me a muffin,” he was not going to mention his break down.

Cora stilled and finally opened her mouth. “Did he own you anything?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Did you blackmail him?” Scott asked his mouth full of food.

“No, why would I..?”

“Did he-?”

“No! Where are you guys going with this?”

“I don’t think that it’s our Derek,” Erica said and took a bit of an apple.

“No, it doesn’t sound like my brother, right?” and everyone agreed dismissing the whole idea fast, so Stiles let it go.

 _I guess it’s not the same person._ It would have been a fat chance anyway.

 

* * *

 

Everything had gone really well, if you did not count Stiles blurting out things. Still, there had not been any claws or mauling so he could call it success. Well, until now.

Stiles reached for his water bottle at the same time Lydia was trying to grab hers, and their arms brushed each others. Lydia froze eyes growing wide.

 _Shit. What did I do?_ Stiles blinked.

There was moment when everyone were quiet. Lydia's eyes were searching blankly something and she just stayed still.

Finally Lydia gasped and everyone at the table turned looking at her. She looked straight to Stiles’ eyes. “ _You_ ,” she said slowly.

Stiles tried to move his hand away but Lydia hold it at its place. She scrunched her eyebrows like she was trying to figure something out.

 _What was she? What did she see?_ Stiles gulped afraid to move and to look anyone else than the redhead.

When she finally loosened her grip, Stiles stood up and started to gather his stuff. He was mumbling something like, “Oops, look at the time,” at the same time.

He felt eyes following him.

“Stiles,” Lydia said but Stiles ignored her and zipped his pack.

“Stiles,” she said again slowly and Stiles could not help looking back at her feeling uncomfortable.

“Would you accompany me a bit?” she was giving him a polite but intimidating _'smile'_ , it was not a request.

“Okay,” he croaked out, voice sounding rough.

Lydia hooked their arms and they left the confused werewolves behind. Stiles could hear them asking what was going on. He felt tense while Lydia led him to an empty classroom. When they were in she let go of Stiles and sharply turned to him.

“Talk,” she said sharply.

“About what?”

“Oh don’t even try, sweetie. You know exactly what I mean,” she raised one of her eyebrows.

“I-I really-,” he started but did not finish because Lydia was giving him an unimpressed look.

“You know about them?” Again, not a question.

Stiles looked at the unsolved math problem drawn on the blackboard, avoiding her. After all, it was what he does best.

“Talk,” Lydia was getting impatient.

“Um, yes?” he said stretching ‘yes’. He did not have any idea what was the best answer.

“About what they are?” she demanded.

“I know, okay. It’s not like it was hard to figure out,” he muttered.

“And how exactly did you figure it out?” she sat on the desk eyes still glued to Stiles.

He on the other hand tried to look anywhere but Lydia. _The classroom had really ugly curtains_ , he thought while he also sat down.

“It’s not like I knew it from the beginning,” he said after thinking awhile. “I met Scott by chance, and suddenly I realized with who I was sharing my lunch table.” He took a glance at Lydia through his eyelashes, but looked away after seeing the measuring look she was giving. She was waiting him to continue. “I mean, I might have some propensity to notice certain kind of people – or people who are a bit more than just that.”

“How does that works?”

“It’s not really that clear,” he tapped his fingers against the desk, “It’s something I might ignore sometime’s, but I don’t think I can really turn it off. It’s a feeling, some kind of sensation. It comes and goes,” he said and he finally dared to look at the girl. "Like you for example."

“What about me?” she crossed her hands.

“I don’t know what, but there’s something there that I can’t quite figure out. It’s just confusing,” he said with a small voice, “but you’re something and you saw something just now. What was it?” words felt shaky tumbling down his lips. He felt nervous, it could be anything and his past wasn’t all butterflies and roses.

“There’s a lot of death around you and not a natural kind. I saw enough though, you aren’t normal,” she stated.

Stiles bit his lips.

“No, I guess I’m not,” he smiled sadly, “but I mean no harm. I’m here for my father. I don’t have any needs to bring any trouble to your pack. I don’t want to cause any pain." He sounded calmer than what he felt. There was a long pause between two of them.

“I don’t know why, but I think I believe you,” she sighed, “but you still are kind of twisted.”

“You can just rule out the _kind of_. I’m just glad that I’m even half sane,” his smile was crooked.

Lydia just stared him.

“So what exactly are you?” she was measuring him.

“I’m just a spark,” he shrugged.

“And what does a spark do?” she asked fast.

“We don’t _do_ anything, but we do have some kind of abilities. It really depends from a person. Some are more powerful than others. People sometimes go on living without even realizing that it exists. I guess, you could say that everyone have it in their own ways, even you. ”

“And how powerful are you?”

“Me?” Stiles scratched his chin trying to think the best answer. “Honestly, I’m not completely sure. It’s not like there’s anyone who would measure it for me. I’m not exactly weak but I don’t know. I don’t think I’m that special.”

Lydia didn’t look too convinced about everything he had said but she took it all in, and was seemingly trying to process it in her head.

“What kind of abilities are we talking about?”

“Um, for me it’s mostly about the senses. I’ve learnt to feel the earth, to know things, to protect, to see and to control. Also, there might be couple other things…” he said absent minded. “It’s not all about what you can do, it’s more about what you choose to do.”

“Has this all have something to do with emissaries?” she asked carefully.

“Yeah,” he tried to remember what he had heard about the sparks, “Many emissaries do have a strong spark. It’s all about how you light your wants and desires. Protection has always been a common way to use power.”

“I see...”

“But how did you-“ Stiles went silent when he realized. Werewolf pack – of course they would have an emissary! “Do you have an emissary? Is there one in Beacon Hills?!” This could be his chance. Maybe he would help him. There are so many things he cannot find out from just few books.

“Well, I know one,” Lydia said analyzing Stiles’ reaction. “You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“I already told you that I came here alone. There was nothing left for me anymore.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really think that you are dangerous person – but you have to understand that I heard some things when I touched you,” she said to Stiles who was looking at the floor, “things that sounded not so harmless.” Her green eyes met the brown amber ones.

“I never wanted to be a part of anything like that, but what could I have done? I couldn’t protect myself, and I haven’t had anyone else to have my back for years,” he wanted to explain but how could he?

“…What happened to you?”

“Death and misjudging.” He did not avoid the eye contact this time.

“I’m not telling the others.” Suddenly Lydia stood up. “But if there will be a problem-“

“I won’t be causing any of those. My past is mine to worry,” Stiles set out straight.

“I’m not telling them, but I am not going lie either. So _if_ something happens they’re going to know sooner or later.”

Stiles gulped and nodded to her.

“So don’t try anything.”

“I won’t, but can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

“What about you, what are you?” Stiles could not help asking.

“What do you think I am?” Lydia was smiling now. Probably because she liked to be in top of the all information she could get. “Can’t you guess?”

“No I can’t and it’s frustrating. I don’t think I have ever met anyone like you.”

“Well I’ll tell you, just because I’m a fair person.” Lydia smirked like this was a game. “A banshee,” she said smiling, waiting for his reaction.

“A b-banshee?” Stiles stuttered. “You mean they actually exist? That’s a thing, banshees?”

“Well, here I am pretty much alive, so yeah.” She looked at her watch, “I think we need to continue our little chat some other time. You don’t mind, right?”

“Nope,” Stiles said. “But really? You aren’t going to tell about me to the others?” He knew that he sounded desperately hopeful.

Lydia did not even think before answering, “Yeah yeah, let’s go with that – for now.” she gave him a meaningful look. She lifted her bag from the floor and turned to leave.

“Hey I’m a bit curious,” he shouted after her before she managed to open the door. “Is Allison a wolf?”

“Oh, no,” she actually let out a laugh like there was something funny about it.

“Oh.”

“She’s a hunter.” Her smile was wide and challenging when she left the room before Stiles could ask more.

“How does that even work in a werewolf pack?” he said to himself with a horrified expression on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter! Cora made her first appearance because, let's face it, we need more Hales to our lives.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.


	9. Nothing is broken or forgotten, that's the deal

Stiles was was looking at the door from where Lydia had walked out. It was closed now. He had been left alone. He was baffled and wide eyed.

_Werewolves, hunters, a freaking banshee._

He took support from the teachers desk.

 _The hell is going on in this town? So full of all kind of freaks - it's almost like I would fit in just fine_ , he smiled to himself sadly and let out a broken laugh.

"This might be a good wake up call, I could just leave it to this," he said aloud testing the words. But no, _I don't want to_ , he sighed.

 _But seriously, hunters? Don't know what to think about that._ He rubbed his palm across his face and croaned loudly before he took his pack and decided to leave the room. The next class would start soon and he needed time to think. He found the crumbled piece of paper from his pocket. He scanned it through trying to spot his next class. _Gym? I hope it's not lacrosse. I'm so not ready to embarrass myself._

Stiles actually was not as bad in sports as people usually assumed. He could understand why some thought so, he did have his flailing limbs which had caused many awkward incident. It had been a challenge while he learned shelf defence, but in the end he learned his strenght and a way to put his clumsiness into use.

He reached to the door and opened it. The corridor was full of students hurrying to different directions. It was comforting thought that he could just lost himself to this crowd, disappear from all the troubling things. He headed hopefully to the right direction.

"Stiles!"

He turned to look to his left. Scott was walking to his direction, Isaac following him.

"Come on! We show you where the locker room is." the boy with a crooked chin smiled at Stiles who just nodded giving a half smile.

While they walked, somehow Stiles' mood lifted. He got along with Scott so well it was kind of scary. He was not like Stiles, no, but he could not help admiring other boy's attitude. It kind of made him wish that he could be more like he, though, it was kind of reckless in Scott's situation to act this way towards a person he had known for such a little time. It did not seem to bother Scott and it almost make Stiles feel the same.

But.

He still is a werewolf with a pack. They need to protect themself and think about their own benefits. _Even if they are harmless towards me, I still can do a lot of damage just by being here._

That was all that he had in his mind when they entered to the boys' locker room. Stiles choose one of the empty lockers from the back of the room. He lifted the t-shirt over his head and strecthed his muscles. He was reaching to pick another shirt faced towards the lockers when he felt someone shift behind him.

"Cool," Stiles heard Scott say, and then he remembered - _shit._

He turned around fast. Scott was grinning at him awed. Isaac's eyebrows were awfully close to his hairline, he haad obviously not expected a scrawny looking kid having some serious inking on his back. Stiles backed so that his skin touched the cold metal behind him.

"What are you idiots shouting here?" Jackson appeared from somewhere sounding annoyed. Well, what Stiles as far Stiles knew, Jackson always sounded annoyed. But, there were also curious glances from others.

"Nothing!" Stiles yelped.

"Stiles has tattoos," Scott said loudly enough so that everyone was now looking at him.

"It's just a couple of them," Stiles tried not to make a big deal about it.

"Couple? It's more like a one fucking huge tattoo covering his back," Scott blurted out.

"Must've hurt like hell," Isaac sommented.

"It's not a big deal," he muttered and finally put on a shirt he had been clinging to.

"How come you have so many of them? I mean, when did you get all of them?" Scott asked him.

"Yeah, I mean it would take time to get that many. There's no way that you would have managed to get them all done at once. Well, a first timer would not anyway, right?" Isaac said to Scott. "When did you start getting them anyway?" he asked from Stiles, looking suspicious.

"A little while ago," _five years ago_ , he said quickly, too quickly and turned to fold the shirt he had taken off earlier. _Just ignore it_ , he told to himself.

"I don't believe it if I don't see it," Jackson announced.

"I don't care. There's nothing to see. It's just a tattoo, not that uncommon," Stiles brushed him off.

It did not work that well because soon he felt someone lifting his shirt so that his back was bare to the audience behind him. When he finally realized what was happening he pulled the shirt down. He turned to glare at Jackson who had caused it.

"Hey! Boundaries, dude, boundaries!" Stiles felt awfully flustered when he saw the eyes staring at him, even Jackson looked impressed.

"Damn, I didn't think you had it in you, Stilinski," Danny - Jackson's friend said grinning at him.

"Well, who would have guessed," Jackson said giving a small tap to Stiles back. Stiles buried his face to his hands wishing he could just disappear. _Oh my god._

When most of the people were occupied to actually get ready for the class, he felt like hitting himself. He had been so careless. How had he forgotten?

"Come on Stiles, why would you want to hide them?" Scott said confused. "Why would you get them if you wouldn't want to show them off?"

Stiles sighed and finally looked at the other boy. "They're more like a memento or a reminder - a personal thing," and maybe a bit more. "They help me to keep my choices right and controlled."

Scott was actually nodding and looking like he understood, "I think I know what you mean." He looked into Stile's eyes. "Actually I've been thinking of getting one to myself at some point."

"Really?"

"Yeah, not as big as yours though." He sounded amused.

"What can I say, I'm all or nothing kind of guy." Stiles actually managed to put some humour into his voice.

"I see that now," Scott grinned, "but seriously, yours are really cool."

"Thanks, I guess," Stiles shrugged. It was weird getting compliments for something he was not proud. To some, they may look like some pretty pictures, but for Stiles, they were also an terrifying reminder how ugly he could be.

Somehow, they all let the whole thing go when the class started, and Stiles actually managed to enjoy not playing lacrosse. On that day they were mostly just running. _Something I'm expert in_ , he thought smiling. Stiles was hoping that maybe the tattoo conversation would not come up again.

 

* * *

 

Not such luck.

The first thing that Scott said when they found Allison, Lydia, Erica and Boyd at the corridor was: "Oh my god you guys! You won't believe this. Stiles has this huge ass tattoo on his back!"

Stiles let out a fustrated sigh and glared at no one special while biting his lips. _You brought this to yourself._

Erica was smirking looking way too happy about the information. It looked like she had something to say, but somehow Lydia was the first one opening her mouth.

"A tattoo, you say?" Lydia raised her eyebrow.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool," Scott nodded. Stiles groaned.

"What kind of?" Lydia looked at Stiles who was staring blankly at the chemistry book he had opened so he had something to look at. _Avoid, avoid._

It took couple of worried glances from Isaac to notice that he had held the book upside down. He blushed and turned it around.

Scott was apparently more than happy to explain. "His whole back was marked with different kind of symbols, i think there might've been some kind of writing. I couldn't read it though..." he turned to Stiles, "what language was it?"

"Um, just couple different languages. There's no meaning, they might actually mean something like _'I fuck ducks'_ or _'slut',_ you never know," Stiles said. It did not sound too convicing even to him.

Lydia just narrowed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

"You're so full of shit, Stilinski," Lydia said later on, when they were walking side by side to the next class they were sharing.

"What, me?" He was surpised how she had suddenly launched the words out.

"Yes, you," she said sounding bored. "Whatever spark boy you are, I don't really care. You have no desire to harm the pack and you don't want to attract any attention. So I don't mind that you exist."

"Wow, how generous of you miss Martin," he mocked.

"But on the other hand, your sulky attitude is getting on my nerves."

Stiles blinked at that. _Is she here just to insult me?_

"I don't know where you are aiming with this, but please go on and enlighten me," be murmured.

"You know, there's one emessary who lives in Beacon Hills. I have no idea what's your deal and all, but if I was you, I would consider talking to him."

Stiles looked surprised and Lydia continued. "You act like you are able to deal with whatever is going on with you, but for me it seems like you are on your own. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make connection. Just an idea," she said giving him an impassive look.

Stiles scowled but nodded, "I hate to admit, but you might be right."

"Of course I am," she exclaimed giving him a bright arrogant smile.

 

* * *

 

The school day was finally over, and Stiles had headed to the grocery store. He ended up in front of the biscuit setion. He was just standing there forgotten into his thoughts when he felt someone standing next to him. He was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable when the person didn not move along. Stiles looked to his left annoyed.

"Um, can I help you?" He asked and his eyes met a tall woman with a dark hair and killer cheekbones. Her eye were glinting like she had just found something new and fascinating.

"You are kind of creeping me out," Stiles blurted out.

The woman laughed.

"I've seen you before with Derek," she stated.

"Huh? You know Derek?"

"You are the cereal guy, aren't you?" the woman smiled wickedly.

 _Oh._ Stiles mouth hang open. "How did you hear about that?"

"I _was_ there," she grinned. "It was amazing. If you had seen his face for th rest of the day! Oh you made my week," she laughed at the memory.

"Oh my god." He rubbed his face with his right hand.

"Usually I go just by Laura," Laura grinned and Stiles groaned. "Nothing to be ashamed of! There's not many people who have courage to stand up to my brother." She did sound impressed.

"Your brother?" _That's relieving...wait, it is?_ He was confused by his own reactiong.

"Yes, Derek, my little bro. I've been wondering why has he been offering to go to grocery shopping all week."

Stiles could not really figure what she was trying to say by that.

"Uh, okay." Now that he thought about it, their features really did resembled each other. _Fucking unfair genes._

"I'm Laura," She said again, which was probably a subtle way to make him introduce himself too.

"Stiles."

"Stiles, Stiles?" she sounded confused. "As in Sheriff's kid?"

 _Damn the small town and its rumours._ "Yes, I'm the one."

"Aren't you...wait. If you are the one who -" she was obviously not talking to Stiles anymore. Finally her smile grew wider. "Oh this is hilarious."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh don't worry your pretty little mind," she said and actually ruffled his hair.

"Laura," a growl came from the behind of them.

Stiles could not stop himself from smiling when he saw the other man walking closed. "Derek."

"Hello," his lip twitched. Then he turned back to glare at his sister and handing her a shopping list. "Everything that's left on the list are your stuff, go get them."

Laura looked at it. "Derek, are you not man enough to buy some tampons for your sister," she said loudly without blinking, but you could see that she was trying hard not to smile.

"Laura," he warned.

"What would your girlfriend say - oh wait, you don't have one, loser," she said now grinning, and Stiles thought she might have actually winked at him. He had no idea what to make of that.

"Very funny." Derek's expression did not waver.

"Come on Derek, I'm hilarious." She poked his rib.

"You laugh at your own jokes, you're delusional." Derek looked unimpressed.

"My jokes goes waste on you." Laura flicked him, Derek actually growled. Stiles felt the shiver on his neck.

"Just go already."

"Yeah yeah, lil bro."  Laura took a step back and saluted to Stiles, "I'm going to leave you two to it then. We'll see soon! Let's not let Derek keep you to himself. It was nice to meet you."

"Um...Awesome?" Stiles was not sure was it, though.

She looked at Stiles, then derek and her expression was suddenly very gentle.

"Aren't you something," she pinched Stiles' cheek.

"Bye," Stiles said and turned to Derek who has been looking at him. "She's a little intense, huh?"

"She truly is," Derek snorted but did not look away, so Stiles did.

"Um, so -"

"How are you doing?" Derek managed to say before Stiles.

"Ye-yeah, I'm good. Better." Stiles tried to show an honest smile.

"Good."

There might have been a smile, and Stiles could swear his heart skipped a beat. How very, very cliché. He turned to look at anywhere else, but could not help glancing back at the other man. When he saw Derek still looking at him, Stiles felt his cheeks warming. He coughed and turned away when something caught his eye.

"Hey, is that..." He pointed at the figure peaking behind the hair product shelf. Derek looked up and frowned.

"Laura!" he growled.

"I'm curious. Nothing's wrong with that!"

"It's creepy."

"Like you're the one to judge." She rolled her eyes. "But I have to say, I don't remember the last time I've seen you in such a good mood. It's a nice change."

And she was gone before Derek could answer.

"Can't believe her," Derek said annoyed.

"I think she's kind of cool," Stiles shrugged.

"Why?" Derek's face looked like Stiles had told him that uggs are cool.

"Well, I never had any siblings. Makes me kind of jealous seeing you two bickering like that. Oh, and she got the eye rolling thing covered up. Nice family trait by the way." He smiled at Derek.

"I don't do that."

"Whatever you say," Stiles sang.

"I don't."

"It's kind of adorable how you actually believe it," he teased, and suddenly went quiet. "But seriously, thank you about the other night. I was a mess."

"It wasn't my best day either." Derek looked sympathetic.

"And I was probably just making it worse...sorry," he stared at the floor.

"You didn't. Don't apologize."

"You don't have to tell me something that's not true," Stiles mumbled.

"It is, also, I actually meant what I said then. You can come to me if something's worrying you."

"Don't promise when you can't be sure."

"I am sure," and when Stiles looked at in Derek's eye, _huh_ , he did not see a lie.

"You are annoying," Stiles lied.

"Well, you are still pretty ridiculous."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," and Derek cracked a smile. Stiles' legs felt like goo.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably add a skecth of Stiles' tattoo I drew a little while go. I didn't have time to update last week but here we go. I also started another TW fic so that took a bit time. Two fanfictions at the same time might not be a good idea, but then again what is?  
> Anyway I'm too tired to think - I'm going to sleep. I hope you truly enjoyed reading the newest chapter! xo


	10. Looking for another to combine

On Wednesday morning Stiles woke up without much effort. His back had been itching - _must be the werewolves_ , he thought. He had been sleeping as peacefully as he ever could. He did not feel as rested as he would have liked, but then again, that happened rarely. He would take what he could have, and if this is how his nights were going to be for the rest of his life, so be it.

He said _'_ morning' to his father and sat on the living room floor and emptied his mind, feeling the energy flowing all around. What he could not empty, was the cup of tea he had once again left 2/3 full. If John had noticed his habit, he had not mentioned anything.

The school day had not been that special. Lydia had been 'keeping eye on him', Scott was still pretty great and everything was fine. Stiles was not really used to things going fine, because that was not how his life is. So he went to the classes, ate lunch with Scott and others on their regular table, and just went along with it.

He was a bit surprised that he was already getting used to the routine. Before he did not have one. Things happened and plans expire and nothing was sure, _that_ was what he was used to. This all almost made Stiles forget that his school mates were werewolves - yeah, that was a thing that was happening apparently. No biggies though, things could be worse. Stiles knew that almost too well. So for now, he was just content and went to buy some groceries after the school.

 

* * *

 

This time Stiles was not surprised, that on that very same day, once again, he met Laura and Derek at the store.

"Hi Derek." Stiles smiled at the man.

"Hi." There might have been a small smile playing on his lips.

"A man of few words."

"Oh you have no idea." Laura rested her hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Hello Laura. You doing okay?"

"Oh I'm great." Her smile was wide. "Derek here wanted to do some _shopping_."

"Same for me. Need to buy some pasta." He showed them the package he had just picked from the shelve.

"Oh I bet you do."

...For some reason Laura's comment made him feel uncomfortable.

"I have no idea how you made that sound so wrong, but I got to give you kudos for that."

"I'm a woman of many talents. Derek here on the other hand-"

"Laura," Derek warned.

"What? I was just here telling our friend that-"

"Shut up." Derek glared.

"I love you too," she smiled fondly and Derek huffed.

"Sibling love, awesome," Stiles was looking at them amused.

"You can have our younger sister if you like," both of them said almost at the same time with a serious face. Stiles saw Derek's lip twitching.

"I think I pass."

"Your lost," Derek said, but Stiles could see from his expression that no, no it was not.

They did the rest of the grocery shopping together. Maybe it was going to be their thing, they were like grocery buddies or something.

"Why are you both here by the way. You aren't even buying that much." Stiles glanced at the shopping basket Derek was carrying.

"Oh, i'm just here to annoy derek." Laura sounded actually proud of herself.

Stiles turned to look at Derek who had not answered. He was just next to them minding his own business and picking some oranges. He looked really focused on the fruits.

"Derek," Laura tested her words carefully. She sounded awfully amused.

"Yes?" Derek said and picked another orange.

"That is just sad. You don't even like oranges," Laura smiled at him gently.

Derek froze. "They're for mom." which sounded a lot like a question. He looked at Laura who bit her lower lip and shook her head.

"Well, someone will eat them." He sounded defensive cheek flushing a bit, Laura snorted.

"You bring joy into my life, Derek." She ruffled Derek's hair and for some reason Derek let him, though, he rolled his eyes.

Stiles was actually enjoying himself by spending time with the these siblings. They were snarky, smart and looked too good to hang out with Stiles. Still, they really did not seem to mind. Stiles was commenting about all kind of products they passed by. He could not stop laughing at the jogurt brand which name contained a horrible innuendo. Laura was grinning, Derek looked like he was too good to actually show how amused he was. It was okay, Stiles knew he found it hilarious too.

"I can't believe anyone thought that was a good idea when they named it." Stiles smiled happily.

"Says the kid who got the weirdest name ever," Laura threw at him.

"Hey! My name is unique," Stiles said, not even offended, because he knew that his name was a bit - special.

"And what was your name again." Derek looked at him curiously.

 _Huh._ "You don't know?" Stiles asked as he tilted his head.

Derek shook his head. "No, you never told me."

"Well, that makes a lot of sense," Laura muttered like she realized something.

"That can be easily fixed," Stiles shrugged, "It's-"

"Wait!" Laura shouted loudly. "Don't tell him!" She looked excited. Her grin was wider than ever.

"Why wouldn't he," said Derek.

Stiles raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, why wouldn't I..?"

"Because, I'll pay you-" Laura crossed her arms.

"You'll pay me?" he asked, and she nodded still smiling.

Derek opened his mouth, "That is just ridicu-"

"How much?" Stiles' eyes were locked with Laura's.

"You can't be serious." Derek turned to Stiles.

"Oh I am completely serious. So?"

"I'll pay you 5$ for every day you won't tell him," Laura's eyes were gleaming.

"He wouldn't-" Derek started again.

"Deal." Stiles said and offered his hand, Laura took it.

"Hey," Derek sounded displeased. "You could always just tell me."

"I know I probably could stay quiet at least about three weeks, so if you can pay me up that amount I'm happy to tell you right away," Stiles grinned at Derek.

"I'm not going to pay you," Derek growled.

"Then I'm not telling wolf boy, so stop brooding," Stiles said not really thinking what had left from his mouth.

"I don't even know why people need television," Laura said looking really satisfied about her work.

"Well, I don't even own a television," Derek said which caught Stiles attention. He turned to another man and gasped hoffified.

"You don't have a tv?"

"No, why would I?"

"Because Derek, it's a necessary thing to have in a livingroom. What do you even have in your living room? Don't tell me you have a couch and no television. Where are all your furnitures pointed at? Don't tell me a fireplace, don't tell me a fireplace."

Derek stayed quiet.

"Dude! That's not how living room works!"

"I have a laptop." Derek sounded like he really could not care less.

"It's not the same," Stiles groaned.

"You can watch all the same stuff from there."

"Maybe, but a television is _a television_."

"You realize that isn't even a real reason?" Derek frowned.

"Oh, I could watch you guys bickering all day long but unfortunately my brother and I have dinner plans," Laura said like she was enjoying every second that had just passed.

"Whatever, but this is not the last conversation we're going to have about this," Stiles pointed at Derek accusingly.

"I'm counting on that," Derek sighed and Laura laughed.

"Okay boys, let's get going," she announced loudly. "You two can continue this, whatever it is, later."

Stiles gave Derek a last pointed look when they separated outside the shop, Derek rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

John had actually bought Stiles a laptop, a freaking laptop! And Stiles, he had no idea how to react. He had tried to tell him that he does not have to buy him anything. His dad of course was not hearing any of it.

"You'll need it to get your school work done," he had claimed. Stiles realized that yes, he actually do need it. He had left his old one when he decided to get the fuck out from his fosters. It was not like he wanted anything from them anyway. The thing was that he just wished that his father did not have to spend too much on him. He had already given him so much, more than John realized.

"I'm going to pay you back."

"No you won't."

"I will! And you'll take the money without complains."

"I'm not hearing any of this," John said when he left Stiles' room.

"Stop being so nice and stubborn," Stiles said fustrated.

"Stop being so modest. Doesn't suit you," his dad grinned giving Stiles a final glance.

"Don't worry, never been a quality of mine."

The rest of the day went fast with Stiles messing with the new computer and doing some actual homework which he enjoyed doing. He could not help still feeling that he was intruding to his father's life, taking things he did not have any rights to have or to deserve. So one thing he could actually do right was this, he studied and used his mad cooking skills. Sometimes he caught John staring at him like he was something the man never knew he was missing. Stiles knew he looked a lot like his mom. He had always been proud of it, and it probably made his dad warm up to him more and more. Stiles really hoped this could last. It had been only a week since he came to Beacon Hills and he already had more than he ever dared to wish. He fell asleep smiling.

And then,

he woke up in the middle of the night - not that it was unusual. The weird thing was that he was not breathing heavily or gasping for air...well, not at least for the usual reason.

"Oh. My. God," he lied on his bed trying not to think about the stickiness in his pants. Familiar stuble from his dream came back to his mind clearly and he groaned loudly. Skin against skin, heavy breathing, firm hands "Nooo."

He felt that this wasn't time to have this kind of crisis, "Derek and I are bros, buddies. I can't just go and...oh god. Stupid, stupid, stupid brain!" He buried his face to his hands and took a deep breath which came out shaky. _I don't think I can ever face him again. Nope, I'm just going to ignore this all and then ignore some more,_ he winced at the idea. "But I don't want to." He hit his face against the pillow. _I really don't want that._

The boy got up and dragged himself to the bathroom. From the mirror he could see his own flustered face. He turned away quickly. He took off his pajama pants and boxers which were clinging to his skin.

 _And Derek is actually a nice guy. He's that kind of guy who buys you coffee when you don't want to finish your tea_ , Stiles reasoned when he decided to took a shower, _he listens me rambling and he's fun to talk with. Also, he's hilarious in his own brooding way._ The boy smiled at the memory as he tested the temperature of the water before stepping under the shower. Then something crossed his mind. His mouth gaped and his eyes got incredibly wide.

"Oh my god, I'm crushing on him."

He put his hand in front of his mouth like it could reverse the words that had tumbled out. The luke warm water did not wash away the horribly nice feeling he felt fluttering in his stomach, which told him that _yes, yes indeed you are and you're so screwed._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took some time to update this time! Hope it was worth waiting. Can anyone remind me why again I choose my first fic to be this long? I should've just made a short one with 5 chapters or something but nooo. Well, I still like to write this one so no real regrets. I'm overwhelmed that so many are actually taking an interest in this story, so thank you.


	11. He's beautiful and bleak

Apart from all the werewolfines that was happening at school, Stiles was actually doing fine. He was, but he was certain that his poor heart was going to fail at any moment. There was just so many feelings, you know? He thought about all the new people he had in his life, like his father and Scott and well, you know, Derek, Derek and yeah...Derek.

 _This can't be healthy_ , Stiles sighed loudly as he wrote a new text for Derek on the next saturday.

Yeah, he had managed to be sneaky and steal Derek's phone to sent a message to himself. So now he had the other man's number. Maybe it had more to do with Derek letting him to do so and not that much him being awesome, though, he still was. It might have actually made Stiles feel even giddier because obviously Derek did not mind that they exchanged numbers that way.

Anyway, it all had led to this situation, which was them agreeing to meet at the coffee shop. It was totally just really casual, because Stiles was just being friendly because they were friends. And he was fine with it. Like really really fine with it, he was-

_...fuck._

* * *

 

 "Shut up," Stiles said to the older man.

"I didn't say anything," Derek rolled his eyes.

"But your eyebrows are expressing enough!"

Derek's lips twitched.

"I will totally drink it," Stiles muttered when he was picking a tea bag from the counter. Derek gave him a dubious look and shook his head, Stiles ignored him. Derek actually ordered two cups of coffee while Stiles poured himself some hot water. When they were sitting on the table, Stiles ripped the tea package open - it was called 'The tea of wisdom' because, let's face it, Stiles could use a whole lot of wisdom. He sniffed his tea while he brew it.

_God that's kind of disgusting._

He heard someone snorting and turned to look at Derek who looked at Stiles amused while Stiles, on the other hand, was not.

"Just take the coffee." Derek offered the other cup he had bought just now. Stiles did not say anything but he did reach to take a sip of it. "It's kind of annoying that I Still don't know your name."

"This is life, Derek. We all can't be happy."

"You are named as a 'Batman' on my phone."

Stiles smirked at that and Derek raised his eyebrows.

"I know, I put it there myself," he said feeling proud.

"Fucking Laura."

"You should just pay me and I would let you out of your misery. Still, the truth is not pretty," Stiles sipped at his coffe.

 _Hot hot_ , he burned his tongue. Derek gave him a napkin, Stiles took it gratefully.

"I won't. Why would you need the money anyway?"

"I'm not rolling in cash. Dude, it's a men's world."

"You are a man."

"Still, money, Derek, Money." Stiles waved his coffee cup like it would explain something. Derek stared at him like he was something he could not figure out. "Look," Stiles sighed, "I want to pay something back to my father and this isn't the only way, but it helps. I'm opportunist."

"This is still idiculous."

"No, what is ridiculous is that you don't own a tv," Stiles mocked disappointed.

"You won't just let it go, won't you?"

"No, I don't think I ever will."

"It's not like I can't buy one. I just have never needed it."

"But I bet the others have mentioned the same thing to you." Derek bit his lip - _jackpot_ , the younger man smiled delighted. "I've been wondering a while, what do you do? What exactly is your job?"

"I'm a book editor," Derek said shortly.

 _I wonder if he has reading glasses, I bet he does. Fuck that's attractive. That is so hot, I can't even - oh fuck he's looking at me. Quick, think something to say!_   Stiles opened his mouth - nothing.

"You need a television."

"This again? I don't want one."

"Derek, we have to buy you a tv!"

"No WE don't," Derek frowned. "I'm not buying a television just because you're telling me to."

Stiles tilted his head, _We'll see about that?_

And Derek had no idea what made him surrender, but after a half of an hour Derek sighed, "We're taking my car." Stiles beamed at him and Derek gave Stiles a friendly tap to his shoulder. Do not judge him if he wanted to take a step to Derek's direction so that they would be flushed side by side. Stiles felt curious how warm the other man would feel against his skin. Of course he did not actually do it! He was not stupid or anything. Still, it came awfully close to that.

Could you really blame him?

 

* * *

 

Both of them agreed that they would meet in a half of an hour in front of their local grocery store. They would have just enough time to drop some things to their homes, and Stiles could walk to their meeting spot because he lived only ten minutes walking distance.

When Stiles got home, he saw his dad talking on a phone. He waved his hand in front of him so that Stiles could get John's attention.

 _What?_ Sheriff mouthed.

"I'm going to help Derek to buy a tv, so I'll be gone for awhile."

"Derek?" the man said confused.

"He's a friend. A good guy. Doesn't seem to be that good with technology so I might have to need to stop at his place to help getting the tv work," Stiles thought aloud and he realized, _oh my god, I might visit at his place._ His mouth was left hanging. How should he act? _Casual? Friendly - maybe..._

"Oh by the way I haven't been able to get all the channels working on our tv, maybe you could-"

"Already fixed it." Stiles smiled it sheepishly. "Did that the following sunday after I got here."

"Oh," he looked surprised, not angry actually kind of pleased, if Stiles was not reading his face wrong.

"Yeah. That happened." He tried a small smile. "I'm kind of good with those kind of things."

"That's a nice skill," he encouraged Stiles with returning a smile. "Now, you should get going and I should return to my phone call. - Melissa? - Yeah, sorry about that-"

And that was it. Stiles picked something from his room and put on his favorite red hoodie. He had bought couple of new ones but he always liked this one the best. The material kept him warm even when the air was chilly. He walked fast and soon saw Derek's camaron already waiting on the side of the road. Stiles slipped in from the passanger side.

"Ready to rock your world?" he grinned.

"Why am I even doing this again?"

Stiles smile got even wider, if that was possible.

They were mostly silent in the car, even thought, Stiles obviously could not stay completely quiet the whole ride - Derek did not seem to mind.

 

* * *

 

"The sales assistant told me that this was the best option," Derek argued.

"Derek, listen to me. He's trying to sell stuff to you, I'm trying to help you. Now, I have done some research." Stiles noticed Derek staring at him. "What? I had some extra time before. So, what I'm trying to say it that you should buy that one there." He pointed the one on their left.

Derek looked at it for ten seconds and said, "Okay, I'm taking it."

"What?" Stiles gaped. "You didn't even look at it!"

"What, it's fine."

"Derek, did you even check the price?"

"You said I should buy it so I'm buying."

"You are making my brain hurt. I don't know why do I even bother to understand your logic." Stiles rubbed his temple.

Derek shrugged and picked one of the boxes like it weighed nothing, and Stiles was left staring awed at him walking away.

He turned to stare at the boxes that were still on the floor and tried to pick one up. _God this is heavy! What the fuck is he made of??_ Stiles stared at Derek who was now talking with the cashier.

When they were at the car Stiles said, "I hate you."

Derek turned to Stiles, he looked a bit hurt but the expression was washed away when Stiles continued, "It's unfair that you are like some freaking Hercules and it's a wonder that I'm even able to lift my grocery bags!"

The older man laughed.

"Seriously, what's in these." Stiles pocked at Derek's arm.

"I like to exercise."

"So do I."

Derek gave him a look.

"What, I do! Still, you don't see my muscles ripping all my t-shirts," he mumbled.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Don't say anything. Just drive faster so we can get to your place and I can show you something you aren't able to do," Stiles said seriously.

"You want to help me with that?" Derek pointed at the tv on the backseats? He looked a bit surprised.

"Yeah, I mean you didn't think that I would made you buy one and leave it to your care?" Stiles was starting to feel nervous. Maybe he was overstepping. "I mean no offence but you don't seem to know lot about that kind of stuff, so I thought..." he let out a laugh which sounded strained.

"I don't," he looked like he was thinking something.

"I mean, I help you only if you want! I'm not trying to intrude or anything," he explained fast.

"It's-"

"I obviously was out of line! You can just drop me of at the store." He felt embarrased.

"Listen-"

"I know I shouldn't just assume things because I mean, look at me. Who wouldn't want to get rid of-" he trailed of not really thinking what he was saying.

"Hey hey, slow down!" Derek finally got Stiles' attention.

"Huh?" His eyes were wide.

"I'm not saying I don't want your help. I hadn't just thought that you wanted to." Derek gave him a lopsided grin.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"So-?"

"We are going to my place, it seems."

Stiles could not help smiling. He looked out of the window which was on his side and missed the fond and curious expression Derek was making when he was glancing at the younger man.

 

* * *

 

Stiles could not help wandering around Derek's house. It was actually rather large. When Stiles pointed that out, Derek answered, "Well I got a big _family_. They visit often."

Soon Derek dragged Stiles back to the living room and Stiles rolled his sleaves. "Let's make the magic happen."

Derek looked from side when Stiles worked. He knew that he was good at what he did. This was easy for him, there was no ones life on risk, no one was expecting anything from him. He hummed while he did his 'magic'. Well, almost literally, because he could not stop his magic circulating through his veins. It was kind of weird when he thought about it later on. Derek's home was really - homey. Stiles just wanted to lie on the floor and never leave, and his spark felt the same. It was safe and nice, just like Derek. He looked at Derek who was for his surprise already staring at him. The boy flushed and turned back to his work. He could feel his ears burning.

It did not take long that Stiles was ready. He tried to which the tv on, it worked nicely.

"Damn, I think I might actually try to sneak in in the middle of the night and steal it from you."

Derek smiled at him. Stiles had never thought that it would be a common expression on his face when they first met.

"Or, you could always sneak in, not steal anything, stay and to watch something here."

Even Derek looked surprised at what he himself had just said.

Had Derek just offered that he could come to visit when he liked? Stiles could not wrap his head around it so he just blinked. Derek looked uncomfortable but did not take it back, so finally smile broke into Stiles face.

"I would like that." Stiles stared at his sock.

They ended up settling on Derek's sofa which Stiles approved. Hannibal was on so they watched the full episode, and Derek did not complain even once Stiles commenting through the whole thing.

"Now that I think about it, my name really is kind of weird. Maybe I should make up another one. It could be just between you and me." He flashed a sly grin to Derek.

"That's a stupid idea."

"No, it's brilliant! Let me think a moment."

Derek sighed at that, but you could tell that he was amused.

"Bruce!" Stiles announced loudly. "Think about it."

"For the last time, I'm not calling you Batman."

 Stiles smiled brightly. "Oh you make me swoon. I knew there was some inner nerdiness in you after you told me about your job."

He did not want to leave when the time came, but he knew that his father was waiting him.There was someone saying good bye to him and there was someone waiting for him. Honestly, he could not have hoped more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Derek and Stiles being all domestic, so that's what you're getting this time. I'm sending all my love to you, my readers!


	12. So I gathered all I had and laid it down before your feet

The next few weeks went somehow like this:

 

**Allison:**

"I know how it feels to be the new kid." Allison came to Stiles when he was taking books for biology from his locker. "I was you a year ago." she smiled looking sympathetic.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded but added fast, "Well, kind of like you. Of course, I'm not saying that I know how's your life been or anything. But if by chance you need someone to talk to then -" She pointed at herself.

"That's kind of sweet," he said baffled.

"Nah, I'm just," she tried to find the right words, "It's just that you seem nice and you never can have too many friends having your back."

"Yeah." He bit his lips and closed his lockers door. "You all seem to get along pretty well, you know."

"I guess." Hhe squinted her eyes probably thinking somethinking the past. "It wasn't always like that but lot have happened."

"Like what?" he could not help being curious, after all, the whole group was pretty unique.

"Like a lot." Her dimples were showing. "Some serious shit. Misunderstandings, fights, arrows..." she whispered the last one.

"Arrows?" Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"Oh Stiles, just joking." Stiles knew she was not. "It was just us pickering and being stupid."

 _With arrows._ "Uh, okay."

"So, you think about it?"

"Yeah, sure," he shrugged.

"Good." She flashed another smile.

Stiles nodded and smiled back.

"Remember, anytime!"

"A hunter in a werewolf pack." he sighed when Allison had walked away. "Now what should I think about that?"

 

* * *

 

**Scott:**

"Hey, dude." Stiles sat next to Scott when he walked into the english class.

"Stiles! My man!" Scott gave him a high five.

"How's life?"

"Good, good. You know, I was thinking," and Stiles knew where this was going, "We are going to go bowling. You want to come with us?"

"...I don't know..."

"Come on Stiles. I know you've been busy, new town and everything but it's like you're ignoring us."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Stiles saw the unimpressed look on Scott's face. "Dude, I hang out with you guys all the time at school!"

"Well that you do," Scott sighed, "but you never want anything to do with us out of the school. The thing that you want to hang with us at school is the only thing that has convinced me that you actually like us." He looked worried.

Stiles scrathed his hair. "I don't dislike you guys..."

"I know that," Scott grinned, "and I get it that you're having a hard time," he put his hand on Stiles shoulder, "but you need to let lose. You deserve it."

 _No I really don't_ , Stiles bit his lip.

"Don't show me that face," Scott scowled.

"Why are you making me feel like the bad guy? Put those puppy eyes away."

"You could say that making people feel guilty is my speciality."

"Fuck you," Stiles grunted and Scott laughed.

"So?"

_So, should I start spending more time with werewolves? So, do I want to expose myself to them? So, will I risk everyone's safety? So, is there possibly any good outcome to this? So?_

"Yeah, sure, I think about it."

Stiles did not go, Scott did not blame him. Stiles liked Scott. It was almost like having a friend you could trust. But Stiles, he actually did not have the luxury - to have friends. He was trying to keep reminding himself that, every time he felt happy in their company. It was not getting harder, no, he was good. He was - god, he really was fucked.

 

* * *

 

**Lydia:**

"I know that I warned not to fuck with the pack but seriously, you don't have to avoid us or anything," Lydia stated suddenly.

They were at the school's library since they had came to the agreement to help each others out. She had bluntly asked him if he had some supernatural guide books. Stiles had told her that he had a small collection, and when she laid her eyes at the Stiles's selfmade bestiary Lydia raised her eyebrows and there was a respect in her eyes that had not existed before.

"I know, but it's my own decision how I act," Stiles muttered.

"I'm not seeing a problem here. We have been in a deep shit, you have been in a deep shit. We all know that crazy isn't enough to describe our lives. So, why are you making it like you are on your own?" she demanded.

"Lydia," Stiles looked at her eyes, "you don't want to get involved with me."

"Is it that bad?" she said after a moment of silence between them.

"It's worse," Stiles tried to lift a corner of his mouth.

"We could-"

"I don't want you to," he interrupted her in the middle of the sentece.

"But I want to!"

"We aren't even friends."

"Stiles, you are seriously stupid for a such a smart person like you if you really think that you have no connection with us."

"We are n-"

"Scott has been talking to our alpha."

"He has been what?!" the boy gaped.

"You know, that's kind of how our pack is formed. It's full of broken puppies," she said amused.

"They don't even know me, what I am or-"

"It doesn't really matter." She looked at him gently. "Honey, when you are in you are in."

"I..," he sounded helpless.

"I think that at least a part of them understands that there's something in you that's not normal. There are things you can acknowledge without actually realising it, though, you cover it pretty well. Would you like to tell me how exactly you do it, by the way?" she said. She was beautiful with her red hair looking like fire in the sunlight which was leaking between the window blinds. He was a bit surprised how his heart was not beating fast, but he wanted to know her, he wanted a friend. He wanted to be fierce like her because he knew that she was the kind of person who could conquer the world.

"Huh." He took a moment to think things through.

"So?" She smiled and tilted her head curiously.

"So." He took a breath in and out. "I would like you to tell me more about this emissary you mentioned before."

"With pleasure." Her smile was devilish. They both knew who had won this round.

 

* * *

 

  **Jackson:**

"Stop trying to woo my girlfried," Jackson demanded on one Wednesday morning.

"Um, what?"

"Don't you play with me Stilinski. I know what you're trying."

 _So this is why he has been bitching to me all this time_ , Stiles rubbed his eyes feeling annoyed.

"Jackson, let me be honest," he said sounding tired, "Lydia is beautiful and all, but I'm not interested in her and even if I was, I know she's with you. For some bizarre reason, she honestly seems to care about you."

"Why should I believe you?" Jackson did not sound as murderious as before but his eyes were still throwing daggers.

"Because-"

 

**Erica:**

"Because he's obviously playing for the other team." Stiles heard just from her voice that she was wearing a shit-eating grin.

"Oh," said Jackson.

"Erica!" Stiles glared.

"What? I'm just saying aloud what's obvious," she smirked.

"I'm not gay," Stiles said but Erica was not buying it. "Well, not completely at least. Bi, maybe."

"But you are into someone at the moment."

"I'm not saying-"

"A guy?"

"Well, it's-"

"Good looking?"

"Well, yeah but," he said and Erica's eyes gleamed. "Wait no! I mean - shit."

"No taking back, it's out. I heard it, Jackson hear it, Boyd heard it." She pointed at her boyfriend who Stiles had not noticed before standing there.

"Oh my god." Stiles wanted to walk away. His cheeks were turning red.

"Aren't you the cutest!" she cooed and clinged to him so that she could stop him for fleeing.

"You could have just said," Jackson shrugged next to them. He was actually enjoying Stiles embarrasment.

"Shut up," Stiles said jaw clenched.

"So?" Erica had a huge smile across her face.

"So what?"

"Does he have abs?" she winked at him.

"Okay, I'm out." Stiles walked away.

"Aww, come on. Sharing is caring!" He could hear Erica yelling when he walked through the school yard.

 

* * *

 

**Isaac:**

"Scott was kind of bummed that you didn't come bowling with us," was the first thing he said to Stiles when he sat next to him in the empty cafeteria. The accusation made it sound like Stiles had massacred an entire litter of puppies.

Stiles sighed, "It's nothing personal."

Isaac leaned to the table. "Try tell that to Scott."

"I don't want him to feel bad about that I'm not always coming with you guys."

"Then, for once, show up."

"It's not a good idea."

"Fuck it. Do it anyway. I don't care what's your deal, just do it," Isaac crossed his arms.

"You really aren't good convincing people, you know that?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Isaac said giving him his best a killer smile - no you do not understand, literally a killer smile.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "You don't scare me."

Isaac did the same but ended up cracking up, "I can't do this. I don't know what it is but there's something weird about you. It's like you don't even know what's for your own good."

"Well that's something I can agree with you," Stiles said nodding.

"Weirdo."

"Creep."

 

**Cora:**

"What are you two bickering here." Cora was the first one to arrive to there after Stiles and Isaac. The boys brushed her off.

"Can I have your apple," Isaac said instead, looking at the fruit on her tray.

"Nope," she said grinning and took a bite of it.

Scott greeted the three that were already eating, and soon the rest of the group were sitting in the same of the table and complaining about the upcoming tests.

"We should have a study group," Cora announced.

"Yeah, might be a good idea," Isaac said quietly while looking at the testpaper he had gotten back.

"Let's do it then," Scott agreed.

"My place?" Cora asked while munching her sandwich.

"Only if it's okay with your mom," Erica said.

"I'm sure it's fine, but I'll ask."

"Good. So, who's in?" Allison was smiling brightly as she looked at the people around the table.

Stiles looked at his lunch.

"You know, I think Stiles would be a great help," Lydia said happily and Stiles winced when his name was mentioned.

"Huh? Is he any good?" Erica looked curious, and Stiles tried to hide the test he just got back under the table. It was under his folded arms.

"I'm okay, I guess," he said lamely.

"Being modest, huh," Lydia said grinning. "He scored better than me in the last physics test." She sounded actually a kind of bitter but it did not wipe away her smile. Others looked curious.

"No way," said Jackson.

"Boyd!" Said Isaac like giving a cue, and before Stiles could react, Boyd who was sitting next to him, had snagged the test paper from him.

His eyebrows shot up when he looked at it. "Damn Stilinski."

"Let me see, let me see," whined Erica and Boyd gave it to her. "Wow okay, it's decided. You seem like someone who might be good at teaching anyway." She put the paper foward to Isaac and Scott.

"Awesome," Scott nodded approving.

"Lydia is way smarter than me. Don't you want her to help you?" he tried.

"NO!" everyone said fast, and Stiles turned to look at Lydia who was staring at her nails not bothered.

"She's the devil," Cora said seriously.

"I don't like to deal with idiots," Lydia shrugged.

Isaac turned to Stiles. "We're not stupid, but..."

"She just doesn't have any patience," Allison whispered smirking.

"I was scared she would stab me in the eye with a pencil before the last studying session was over," Scott complained.

"You're coming, right?" said Cora looking hopeful.

Stiles looked the others. Isaac was obviously trying to send him a message with his eyebrows.

"Yeah, fine, whatever."

 

* * *

 

**Derek:**

Stiles and Derek were watching Shameless on tv. Stiles was staring at Ian's abs. He looked down at his stomach which was covered with t-shirt. He lifted it so that he could see his bare chest.

"Maybe I should start to lift or something," he grumbled.

Derek was about to say something but as he turned to look at Stiles confused his mouth was left open.

"What?"

Suddenly Derek snorted. He had been smiling more and more lately and it made Stiles feel disgustingly giddy and happy.

"Are you laughing at me?" Stiles was trying to sound offended.

"Hey," Derek said and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. "You are just fine."

It might have been Stiles' imagination but Derek's eyes wandered to look at his stomach once more before Stiles put the shirt back to its place.

"Oh," he gulped. "Okay." Stiles turned to look back at the television screen where Frank Gallagher was getting high as fuck. He glanced at Derek before settling to watch the rest of the episode. He tried to forget Erica's words from before, which was easier said than done. He buried himself to a blanket that Derek always had on the top of his couch. The scent of it was overwhelming and it made his eyelids heavy. He took a deep breath letting his eyes close. He felt Derek's finger trailing his face.

_So,_

_what is this?_ was what he wanted to ask. He was too nervous to do so, or maybe just tired, like really fucking exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to skip couple of weeks fowards with this chapter so I decided to try something new. Hopefully it works fine. I don't know what to say. Thank you for reading, I guess.
> 
> Oh, I realized I haven't added the picture of Stiles tattoos yet! I have to see what I can do about that.


	13. You're smiling at me like a wolf

"Hey," a gentle voice called him. Stiles ignored the voice and pushed his face closer to the pillow he was holding.

"-need to wake up," he heard someone saying more loudly this time, but still, it sounded like a distant whisper.

Instead of doing what the voice told him, Stiles mumbled protesting, "No-, need to sleep more. Sleep is good. Sleep is friend. Gonna sleep more," or at least he was aiming at something like that. It might have come out more as a muffled nonsense.

"I have no idea what you are trying to say," the voice laughed. Stiles liked the sound so he decided to inform it to the voice but he was so tired. So, instead he raised his hand flailing. Stiles tried to reach out and finally his hand touched something soft. He squeezed the material - hair? Stroking it he let out a pleased sigh.

"Going to sleep some more now," Stiles informed smiling goofily.

"No, you are not. Get up. Your phone has been going on and off for god knows how long," the voice was getting clearer.

_What, why would someone call me? Who would - dad?_

Then something snapped in his head, _Wait a minute! I don't remember driving home._

He patted the material he was lying on. _This - is not my bed_ , he fought against the tiredness and squinted his eyes. They were only half open but he could finally distinguish the source of the voice. "Derek..?" he asked confused.

"Finally." the man smiled. "I thought I'd lost you for a moment."

"Your sofa is comfy." Stiles blinked a few times.

"I know," Derek said amused. "Someone has been trying to call you."

Stiles froze, "Fuck!" He shoot up from the sofa and the comforter fell to the floor. He hurried to his coat and took his phone out of the pocket. _5 missed calls_ , it said. Stiles dialed the number fast.

"Stiles?" his father asked.

"Yeah! It's me. I'm so sorry. I am at friends place. We were watching tv and I think I fell asleep," he explained nervously.

"You think?" the man sounded relieved.

"Positive," he laughed quietly. His voice sounded rough and he cleared it a few times.

"You're alright there?"

"Yes! I'm just still a bit sleepy. I don't think I'm working on my full potential at the moment." He rubbed his bed hair. "I'm just going to take a cup of coffee and I'm on my way."

"I don't feel good about you driving half asleep," John complained on a phone.

Stiles was walking back to the sofa where Derek was looming and staring at the boy eyebrows cocked. Stiles made a face and Derek shook his head, Stiles grinned.

"Pfft, I'm fine," Stiles said and at the same time he somehow tripped to his own feet and dropped the phone. "Shit!" He tried to pick it from the floor as fast as possible. "Dad you still there?"

"I am and you're not driving the car tonight." the Sheriff sighed on the other end of the line.

"What?" Stiles exclaimed. "I'm on the top of my game," he tried not to stumble on the blanket which he had earlier shoved to the floor. Somehow he barely managed but Derek did not look too impressed.

"How about you stay at your friend's place tonight?"

Stiles eyes grew wide and now he was compelety awake. "You say what?" _At Derek's?_ He felt his heart thumping.

"Stay there and come home before school _after_ you have slept enough to not crash the car."

Stiles was now searching Derek with his eyes but he had disappeared from his sight. "I don't know..."

"Ask at least. I'm not going to be happy fishing the jeep from the lake after you have drove it there because you fell asleep while driving."

"Well that sounds just silly."

"Could happen," his dad said seriously. "Ask from your friend and send a text me, okay?"

Stiles grumbled something.

"Okay?" a stern voice asked again.

"Yes! Fine. Okay, bye," Stiles said and ended the call. He stared at his phone and murmured something about stubborn people. Stiles himself was never like that of course.  
 The boy walked to the kitchen where Derek was drinking water. "Hi," the younger man said quietly.

"So?" Derek asked, like he already knew that Stiles was going to ask something. He had placed a glass of water for Stiles. It was on the table and he walked, or more likely staggered, to get it. He was not willing to admit how tired he actually was. Stiles picked the glass and drank. The cold water had never tasted so good. He looked absentmindedly around the walls, "You don't have a clock."

"There's one behind you."

When Stiles turned around, there was a small digital clock on the counter. He leaned in to take a closer look. "Oh." He lowered the glass. "It's only half past ten."

"You must have been exhausted," Derek murmured. Looking at Stiles, he continued, "You still look exhausted."

"I look awesome, thank you very much," Stiles said and yawned loudly.

Derek smirked and sat to the counter facing Stiles. He was wearing a white t-shirt, dark blue pyjama pants and no sock. Stiles teared his eyes from the other man when their eyes met.

"You had something on your mind?" Derek asked.

"Um, yeah." Stiles tapped his fingers against the kitchen cabinet doors. "Could I stay over?" but he soon added, "Is it weird. It's a bit weird, right?"

"It's only weird if you make it weird." He was staring straight at Stiles.

"I always make things weird anyway," Stiles joked. He felt too nervous to maintain the eye contact.

Derek did not seem bothered. "Follow," he said and Stiles did. They walked through the living room to the bedroom where Derek opened his wardrope. Stiles peaked curiously and soon there were sweats and t-shirt shoved to his hands. "You know where the bathroom is. Take a shower if you want. There's clean towels in the closet in there."

Stiles just nodded and looked what he was holding, armfull of clothes - Derek's clothes. He gulped and walked to the bathroom closing the door behind him. He looked himself at the mirror and winced. "I do look like crap." He took of all the yesterday's clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Then he took a shower which made him even more sleepy. He might have actually nodded off once. When he was done he dryed himself and put the fresh clothes on. He stretched the helm of the shirt as he looked done. The size of the clothes were bigger than he usually wore. Now he just wanted to curl up on the sofa and fall back to sleep. He knew it would be easy.

When he was back at the living room, Derek walked to him handling a big fluffy pillow where Stiles just wanted to smother himself. As he was snuggling it, Derek threw a big blanket to him. Stiles hugged it and sighed happily. "Oh happy days," he mumbled while falling to the sofa. "I'm going to marry your sofa and we're going to have cute little sofa babies."

"You aren't making any sense," Derek said fondly.

"Your face is the one not making sense," he accused and that was the last thing Stiles said before blacking out.

 

* * *

 

Stiles had woken at six and was now shuffling around the kitchen. He looked through all the cabinets but did not find anything interesting. Now, that he had slept seven hours plus the four odd hours earlier while falling asleep when they watched tv, he was buzzing with energy. As he decided to have some breakfast on his own because Derek had not woken up yet, the other man walked to the room yawning.

"Are you humming Part of your World from The Little Mermaid?"

Derek looked like Stiles' personal daydream, hair all tousled.

"Yup," Stiles grinned, "You want some toast?"

"Sure," he said and walked to the cabinet where he took the coffee package and then paused for a moment. He turned to Stiles pointing a green package, tea. Stiles nodded  and without a word he turned the electric kettle on to boil some water, then he began to prepare the coffee. Stiles was now spreading some butter on to his toast. It was melting and the warm bread tasted so good.

"I used to watch Disney movies a lot," Stiles said at the same time as he took another bite. "One thing I actually sometimes got to do as a kid." Derek did not really comment but it looked like he was listening. "I didn't really like the newest Frozen -movie, though. Too much - everything. If you think of the newest ones, I'm more of a Tangled guy myself." To that Derek snorted.

"Hey! That's a great movie, so no judging." Stiles threw his bread at Derek who miraculously catched it. _Huh._

"Not judging," he said and Stiles apparently lost his toast to another hungry mouth.

"I totally got the whole Rapunzel thing though, life can suck," he kept on blabbering. "And you know what?"

Derek just raised his eyebrows.

"She was totally badass and awesome. She didn't even need a prince to fall in love with, just a regular guy, well, kind of. But the thing is, she got to fall in love and she got to see the fucking floating lights and, in the end, she got to be more than the freaking magic hair." Stiles was lost in his thoughts and when he finally snapped out of it he saw Derek holding a mug full of coffee and just studying him. Stiles shrugged and said, "Forget it," and looked out of the window.

"I've never seen it."

"What?" Stiles looked at Derek scandalised.

"The movie."  He offered the cup of tea to Stiles who took it. The scent was very spring-like.

"You want to?"

"Never really been on the top of my list."

"We could fix that," Stiles said his smile wide. "It could be our dirty little secret. I wouldn't tell Laura." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and laughed loudly when it it was Derek's turn to look scandalised.

The man sighed and smiled a private smile which Stiles hoped selfishly that many had not seen, though, it truly deserved to be seen because it was a damn nice smile. Also, it was kind of contagious. Stiles himself was smiling a content smile while sipping his tea. This brand was not too bad.

Or maybe it was just the company, could not tell, really.

 

* * *

 

When he left Derek's place, he asked if he could borrow the clothes he was wearing for a little while. "I would wash them and return them to you, I swear! I'm not one of those clothes stealers," Stiles had said. "Don't really want to change back to yesterday's clothes."

The idea of Stiles wearing his clothes for a little longer did not seem to bother Derek at all. It was more like the other way around. He looked rather content sending the other boy away with that appearance. Stiles was just thankful that he got to keep them for now. At home he did not really have time to do anything, but actually everything he had to do in the morning was already done. So all he did was change his clothes and redo his non-permanent rune to mask the scent of his spark. Okay, maybe he did not change all the clothes. He left the white shirt on. What could he say, it was soft and clean. Why would he bother, he was going to wash it soon anyway. He left the house feeling like he forgot something.

The school day was okay. He was sure that Cora stared at the shirt he was wearing a moment too long. She might have looked a kind of confused but then she shook her head muttering something like, "Stop thinking too much," and turned her attention to elsewhere.

They discussed about the study group they were still planning to do. Stiles had to admit that maybe he actually was looking foward to it. Maybe they were friends. Sometimes when the others were bickering about something, Stiles would just sit beside them, watching at them and enjoying how the others got along in their own way. Then someone would say something and would drag Stiles into the conversation.

"So today, at my place, at six and no one is going to be late," Cora demanded. "I'm looking at you McCall."

Stiles turned to look at Scott who smiled at him sheepishly. "Once I forgot the whole thing. I came three hours late. Cora was a little angry."

"She was fuming." Jackson smirked next to Lydia who shared the same expression.

"And she didn't give me any chinese food left overs," Scott complained.

"You didn't deserve any of it," Cora narrowed her eyes.

"It happened once!" Scott said whining.

 

* * *

 

Stiles honestly did not know what to expect. He had never been in a werewolf's house. Well, he had been at Scott's couple of times. Still, It was annoying that he did not really know how some things went with the pack. Did their parents know? Scott lived with his mom, Isaac was living with them, Melissa was not a wolf - those were the things he knew. There just was so much more he did not and it made him nervous.

Cora - what did he knew about Cora Hale? Surely not enough. She was actually a bit more distant from the pack than anyone else from the group, so it was confusing. Cora obviously was their friend but it was like she was not included in everything, but not like she was ignored. No one could ignore Cora. She did not always hang out with them. She just came and went as she liked and somehow it felt natural that way. The girl also had other friends at school. But now as Stiles was getting ready to leave to the Hale's house, it started to bother him more and more. He would have been more relaxed to stay at Scott's or Lydia's or even Jackson's place!

"I'm going now to study at Cora's!" he shouted to his father while hurrying to put his shoes on. He did not want to be late, not after the hearing about Scott's earlier mistake. He decided to change the shirt to another one because he had started to wonder if it was weird that he was wearing it. So Captain America t-shirt it was.

"Have fun," his father shouted back.

"If I don't return by midnight I'm probably dead," Stiles said when he grapped his bag.

"You want me to delete something from your computer if that happens?"

 _He already knows me so well_ , Stiles could not help smiling. "Anything, everything!"

 

* * *

 

 He could see that Jackson was just parking his car in front of the Hale house - _or more likely the mansion_. Stiles tried to not think too much about it how out of the place he felt. Something was bothering him, but he could not really tell what was it.

Lydia got off the car as Scott, Isaac and Allison were already standing beside Scott's mom car and chatting with Cora. Stiles parked next to them and joined the others.

"Hi," he greeted them.

"Well look who we have here." Cora was smirking.

Stiles shrugged.

"Erica and Boyd aren't here yet, so maybe we should wait them," Allison said.

"Yeah, they'll probably arrive soon." Cora stared poitendly at the time on her phone.

It did not take more than five minutes when the last two arrived.

"We're not late!," Erica announced grinning when they got out of the car. "I told you we wouldn't be," she said to Boyd with a winning smile.

Boyd just put her arm around her hips and dragged her closer. "It doesn't mean that you can't never be early."

"Now that everyone are actually here - on time." she looked at Scott.

"Hey!" Scott groaned.

"-We should get inside," Cora continued, smirking.

When they were walking closer to the house, Stiles could feel something building up inside him. "Uhm, do you live with a lot of people?" he asked from Cora nervously.

"Yeah," she beamed looking at her house. "We're a big family."

"Nice," Stiles grimaced.

They were at the door. Cora was keeping it open, letting everyone get inside before her. Others were buzzing around him, talking excitely, and Stiles, well Stiles was shivering for some reason. He could feel the cold sweat on his hands. He glanced around the corridor, the house sure was big. It did not make him feel any better.

"We don't like to wear shoes in the house." She seemed to be in her element strolling past them. She talked loudly and laughed with the others.

Then someone walked to the corridor where they were still standing. Stiles could see all heads turning to the brunet woman who was smiling warmly.

"Hi mom!" Cora smiled.

There was one intimidating person, right there. Stiles could see where Cora got her aura.

"Hello Mrs. Hale," Scott said politely and the others parroted him, even Jackson.

"Thank you for letting us come here," Isaac continued shyly.

Mrs. Hale took a step closer to them and said gently, "Anyone of my son's -" there was a pause in the sentence, " _friends_ are welcome to my home anytime."

Stiles blinked. _Son's? I thought all of them were Cora's friends._ Stiles tapped his fingers against his leg. Weidly it took some extra effort to stand at one place for him at the moment.

Now Cora spoke again, "You've already met everyone but Stiles. He's our secret weapon for the next exams." She crossed her arms.

When his name was said, the older woman turned curiously to look at him. "Oh yes, you mentioned him earlier." She tilted her head studying him, and something inside Stiles shouted _Run or fight! Run or fight!_

He ignored it and gave a tight smile.

"I'm Talia Hale, Cora's mother. We are happy to have you as our guest," Talia said on the behalf of her family and Stiles knew - he fucking knew it.

His mouth was in a thin line. He just kept staring at Talia, eyes wide. He gulped loudly. When he had not answered anything everyone turned slowly to look at him.

"Is everything okay, Stiles?" Cora frowned. She looked a bit worried.

They brought him to the wolves' den, he realized.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

He raised his eyes to the white ceilings and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. There were customs with wolves, especially with the one's who leads the pack. Territories - crossing them, announcing about your staying, living in them. Stiles had read about them but he had just tried to ignore it all for now. He kind of thought that he had time. He took a deep breath and turned to look behind him - at Lydia.

"You could have said _something_ ," he said with a thight expression. _She knew - she fucking knew and didn't warn me._

Everyone felt the tension in the room. They looked confused. Talia's eyes were narrowed but somehow she still was completely in control of the situation. What else would you expect?

"I wanted to see your reaction," she shrugged.

He closed his eyes once again and breathed in, "Lydia."

"What?" she honestly did not seem to understand what was the big deal.

"Do you have any idea wh-", he felt fustrated. "It was your book, which told about situations exactly like this. It was yours. You have read it."

Lydia looked finally like she hesitated about her actions. Stiles felt angry but mostly terrified. He did not really have any right to be here. There were different kind of manners to use when interacting with different packs. He just hoped that he would choose the right ones. _At least there was someone to delete my computer history_ , he almost laughed at the thought.

He turned to Talia, and so he started, "Alpha Hale?"

And that was when everyone in the room froze, well, everyone except Talia Hale who just looked curious. She was still smiling. Stiles honestly did not know what to think about that.

"What the hell?" Scott was the first one to say.

Stiles kept his eyes on the woman.

A smirk appeared on her face, "Yes."

"I'd like to apologize intruding into your lands and home without a proper introduction," he held his head high.

Something flashed in Alpha's eyes and she had obviously realized the situation. "Don't worry, little one. No harm's done."

"You have to understand that I had no intention to insult your position in any way," he said seriously.

"Apologize accepted," she said without hestitation and walked to Stiles. He did not know if it was a good idea to maintain the eye contact. It could be taken as a challenge. Stiles could only hope that this was not the case. She reached to put her thumb under the boy's chin and lifted it to take a good look. "Now - why won't you tell me how come we have the pleasure to have a little Spark in our humble home."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, a wild update appeared!  
> I can't believe I'm finally writing about Stiles going to the Hale house. Finally! It's been a long time coming.  
> Again, thank you for the comments, kudos, subscribing and for bookmarking this fic. Seriously, it's nice to know that people actually like it and it also reminds me to stop being a lazy ass and update. I've actually been writing, just something else. I'm trying to write a oneshot - a coffee shop AU. I know, really orginal. BUT! I really like those so yeah, that's going to happen. So please, bear with me.  
> This one though is going to be my top priority until I finish it.


	14. Through my veins, I can feel the pulse begin to race

There was a hint of red in Talia's eyes. Stiles did not really know where to lay his own eyes.

"You can look at me," Talia said like she knew exactly what the young man was thinking.

Slowly, Stiles looked back at the Alpha who was still holding his chin, Stiles just let her. He gaped for a moment and cleared his voice.

"M-my name, is Stiles Stilinski and it's as you said, I'm a Spark." He waited until Talia nodded. "It's just me, here - I came alone. And I don't want any harm to-"

"He knows?" Scott exclaimed and at the same time interrupted Stiles. Stiles took a step back.

"How does he know?" Jackson demanded.

For the first time Stiles turned to look at the others who looked wary and confused.

"You know?" Cora spoke.

But before Stiles could answer, Lydia said, "Duh." And then Cora looked at Lydia.

"Wait, Lydia knew that _he_ knew?" Erica was now the one speaking.

"Of course," she did not look too bothered. "It wasn't hard to figure out." She narrowed her eyes at Stiles. "Also, he's like a walking cemetery."

"Wow, thanks Lydia," Stiles said groaning.

"Is everyone ignoring that he's a Spark, whatever that is," Boyd commented.

"The fuck is a Spark?" Jackson asked.

"You are a Spark?" Cora walked closer to Stiles, curiously like she wanted poke him with a stick.

"So what the hell is Stiles?" Isaac turned to Talia who had all-knowing expression on her face.

"Who's Stiles?" a familiar voice spoke as Stiles heard someone walking down the stairs that were in the end of the corridor.

Stiles' eyes got incredible wide, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth was left open.

"Derek?" Stiles let out a broken sound.

There he was standing, at the bottom of the stairs. The guy who made him tea because of Stiles silly habbit, and still let him drink his own cup of coffee that Derek had made for himself.

Their eyes met and it seem like Derek could not believe his eyes. "...Stiles?" He said slowly like testing his words.

Finally Stiles noticed another familiar person standing next to Derek. "Laura!"

"Stiles," Laura said grinning from ear to ear. She looked too calm and way too satisfied.

Scott looked first at Derek then Stiles and back at Derek. "Derek?" Scott said like he wanted an explanation.

"You guys have no idea how much I want to shout 'donkey' right now." You could hear Erica smiling from her voice.

"Wait a moment." Now even Lydia looked confused. "How does he know them?"

Stiles’ heart was beating like crazy and he kept blinking. All his mind could process was, _Derek, Derek, Derek...  
_

_Hale – he was a Hale._

Stiles finally managed to actually answer with a quiet voice, "Derek and I hang out sometimes, I kind of told you guys already."

"Derek doesn't hang out," everyone spoke at the same time.

"Sure he does," said Stiles while Derek spoke, "Sure I do."

"I'm shocked!" Cora shouted suddenly. She was staring at Stiles and he took a step back.

"Me too," Scott exclaimed. "How could he not be a human. Shouldn't we have noticed something?"

"I'm a human enough," Stiles said sheepishly, "just with a bit extra."

"He's not a human..?" Derek said carefully. This time both Laura and he looked surprised.

"I am!" Stiles looked at Derek a bit offended.

"No! I don't mean about any of that," Cora said like everything was finally clear. "You." She pointed at Stiles. "- you stole my cereals!"

"Oh. My. God," Erica said slowly, her eyes wide. “I don’t even know anymore what’s the weirdest thing happening here,” she said to Boyd. He nodded slowly.

Laura looked thrilled, "Isn't this fun?"

"Fucking great," Stiles rubbed his eyes.

Everyone started to talk at the same time, and Stiles, he wanted to run off, a lot. Derek was quiet and Stiles did not really want to look at the other man, but at the same time he really wanted to. Does that even make any sense?

Suddenly Talia spoke, "QUIET."

And then everything went dead silent. Stiles was already missing the noise because this was too awkward, but he also knew what was to be done. He turned to Talia with a pained expression.

“I would like explain my situation, if that’s fine.” He needed to get himself back together.

“Of course,” the Alpha said calmly.

Why he could not sound as collected? Stiles sighed.

“We should go to the living room,” she paused, “or do you want to keep this private? I have my office, it's soundproofed. ”

“No, it’s fine,” Stiles said. He had been thinking about it and now that Derek was there he wanted nothing more than to come clean. Well, mostly at least. Also, he had his own questions. It would be okay, maybe.

Talia looked approving. She led them to the other room, Stiles was the first following her and as he passed Derek he ended up looking up without meaning to do it. He did not know what he thought he was going to find in Derek’s eyes, but now that he saw the other staring back at him, he felt _better?_ It was weird, he was surprised and confused, but at the same time it was like this was a side of Derek he had not even thought about. It has been there the whole time but he had not just paid any attention to it. And in some bizarre way, it seemed completely reasonable. He tilted his head as he looked at the green eyes of a werewolf.

Derek’s eyes softened and all the suspicion was suddenly gone. When the man smiled a private smile to him, Stiles swore that a flower sprouted from his insides at that moment. The branches of it curled around the bones of his ribcage and he took a ragged breath in. He closed his eyes savoring the moment as he turned back to head to the living room. Stiles wanted to touch Derek’s skin to try if it was as warm as he remembered. _Werewolves_ , he tried to keep a smile from appearing to his face. Only when he was seated he remembered that this was supposed to be a nerve wracking situation.

When Stiles glanced to his left, there was Scott looking at him like he was trying to say with his eyes, ‘I’m watching you, buddy.’ It was not nearly as threatening as it was probably supposed to be. He did not really feel like paying attention to the heavy stares he was getting, so for a while, he just kept looking at the bookshelf on the other side of the huge room they were at.

“I suppose you want to talk first,” Talia finally said.

He had probably been lost in his thoughts because somehow now Derek was bringing him a cup of tea. He smiled shyly as he took it to his hand and nodded at Derek, who slid another cup in front of him. There was coffee in it and Stiles shifted to look at Derek who just shrugged, Stiles bit his lower lip. He was startled when Talia coughed to get their attention.

“Yes!” Stiles said and shifted his eyes through the crowd. For some reason Laura looked happier than he had ever seen, also a bit smug. God knows why.

It would have been honestly easier if there had been a chance to prepare for this. He decided to start from what everyone knows. Well, except Derek and maybe Laura? Fuck, he really had no idea anymore who knew what.

“As you know, I came here a couple months ago,” Stiles tried to find the words, “I came to look for my father. Actually I didn’t know anything about him apart from his name and address, which I found out not that long time ago.” He smiled staring at the brown the in his cup. “My mom-“ he said, suddenly looking at Talia, “-lived here with my dad before I was born. Her name was Claudia.”

“I’m familiar with the name,” Talia said and got his attention. “I think I met her couple of times. She knew, I knew, we kept our distance. Suddenly she just disappear and no one knew where.”

Stiles nodded. “It was because of me. She was pregnant and she -,” Stiles gulped, “she did what was probably for the best.”

“Probably?” Lydia asked.

“Well, she was like me, or I am like she was,” Stiles explained nonchalant while he stirred his tea with a little spoon. It was a nice distraction until the next word was spoken.

“Was…” Derek said slowly.

“Yeah,” he looked at Derek. There was a moment when everyone was quiet and Stiles cleared his voice. “So, a spark. In my case it means that I have certain kind of abilities.” He looked at the people around him. “I have good senses, like for noticing things – auras, power, threat and some little things. In different way that _werewolves_ can, though.” It was weird to say the word aloud.

“But why couldn’t we sense anything. There should be a scent in magic and with you, nothing,” Scott said confused.

“Well, that’s another thing. You could say that wards and runes are kind of my specialty.” He was proud of it so he did nothing to deny it. There was grin on his face.

“Runes,” Lydia narrowed her eyes.

“Well yeah, you already kind of saw them.” He sighed. It still had been a stupid mistake to be so careless.

Isaac's eyes lit up. “Your tattoos.”

“Exactly, but any of those in my back weren’t my scent masking runes,” he felt a phantom feeling on his hip, “I wouldn’t want to make it permanent. Usually I just use something to draw them, something that is washable but still sticks.”

“But wasn’t your back like covered in tattoos. There must be a meaning to have them all,” Allison reminded.

_Smart girl._

“Yes, there is,” _and this was the hard part._ He tapped his fingers to the table nervously. “I-“ he took a long pause, “When I mentioned that my mother had to leave, of course there was a reason. There might have been something in her that could draw power. Like, something insanely strong.”

“What’s wrong with being strong?” Jackson said and Stiles snorted.

“Trust me, even if you would have a change to have something so intense in you, you wouldn’t want it. You don’t have power, the power has you. It all fucks you up. At first it feels so good to just forget everything, feel it all in your veins, but then,” Stiles felt something inside of him pull when he thought back, “it rips you apart, slowly, pulling every bit of your- “ he looked away. “Anyway, when certain kind of people knows that you have it in you, they will do anything, and I mean _anything_ to use you.”

There was a tight tension in the room.

“My mom knew that and she couldn’t take a risk. She managed to help me until…” it was harder to talk about it than he had thought. “You know, she was strong. But when something gets in you, it doesn’t matter in what kind of things you’re capable of. It got in her head, literally, and it grew like a cancer, eating her away.”

“What was it?” Laura who had been earlier so happy, looked paralyzed now.

“It was the power she didn’t let in.” His smile was miserable looking, even he knew that. Was there something in his eye, he was not sure, but it they were starting to sting slightly.

“She was a brave one,” Talia said a grief in her voice.

“She was,” Stiles nodded, “but about all this,” he pointed his back, “I would rather leave telling you about it some other time.”

“Tell us what you are comfortable to tell,” Talia smiled compassionately.

“Anyway.” Stiles shook his head to clear his mind. “Someone picked me up.”

“What do you mean by that?” Cora looked confused.

“I mean it’s exactly as it sounds. When you are, let’s say not even ten yet, unprotected, you are kind of an ideal target. No one’s looking for you, you don’t know who to look for,” Stiles waved his hands as he explained. “At first they took us both in but mom was soon gone. Then it was just me. Things happen.” He looked Lydia. “Death happened.”

“You explained what happened to you, but at the same time you told us nothing,” Jackson complained loudly.

“Hate to say this but that’s kind of true,” Erica commented when she leaned back.

Stiles groaned, “You know, if people had been trying to manipulate you for the last seven years of your life you wouldn’t be even as talkative as me.”

Erica’s eyes widened.

“I know shit and I’ve done shit things. I’ve known you for few weeks and you think I’m going to just blurt out everything?” Stiles laughed dryly. It was completely silent until he spoke again. “I don’t trust. I don’t have the luxury.” When Stiles looked where Derek was supposed to sit, all he found was an empty seat.

 _He left_.

_Of course he left._

For a moment he panicked but suddenly a hand rested on his shoulder. When he looked behind his back he saw Derek and Stiles did not mind. He actually leaned to it and felt the Wolf’s strong and even pulse.

What had he just said? _I don’t trust. I don’t want to trust or I can’t trust?_

 _But if I would trust, it might be him_ , he thought.

_Why was that?_

“You make me confused,” he finally said to Derek.

“I know,” was all Derek said to that.

“You should relax your face,” Stiles poked between Derek’s eyebrows.

“I know,” Derek murmured.

“I’m hungry,” he mentioned tilting his head so it touched Derek’s arm.

“I know,” the other man smiled.

“Excuse me, but what is this,” Lydia finally said like she could not hold it in anymore.

“What?” Stiles said.

“Derek and you! You act so weird,” Cora said turning to Erica, Boyd and Isaac and then to others wanting to know that she was not the only one seeing things.

“We’re going to help him,” was all Derek said and then everyone’s eyes shot up.

“Um…what?” Isaac said slowly.

Talia looked at his son searching for something. Then her mouth quirked slightly.

“You are?” Stiles wondered aloud.

“We are?” asked Scott who did not sound too against it, more like a bit happy actually. Next to him Allison shrugged.

“Yes, we are,” Derek said matter-of-factly.

“Since when?” Cora narrowed her eyes.

“Does it matter? What I decide It doesn’t really concern you.” Derek cocked an eyebrow. Cora answered to that by rolling her eyes. _Hales._

“Hey you don’t get to order me around,” Cora still complained.

“Exactly, that’s why it’s mom’s decision what you are going to do. We, on the other hand, are doing as I decide,” Derek reasoned.

Laura stalked next to her brother and nudged him smirking, “Look at you being all bossy.”

Derek rolled his eyes and looked at Erica, Isaac, Boyd, Scott, Allison, Lydia and Jackson. “Are you all okay with this.”

“Of course oh Alpha, my Alpha,” Erica saluted and the others agreed.

“Wait, what?” Stiles froze.

“Huh?” Laura tilted her head.

“But – I thought,” he struggled with his words, “Isn’t Talia Hale the Alpha?” he finished asking when his eyes were back at Derek.

As he kept looking at him, Boyd commented, “Well, she is an alpha.”

A grin appeared on Derek face, a predatory one. Stiles could not look away.

“But she isn’t exactly _our_ Alpha,” Scott continued, smiling.

Stiles’ mouth gaped open when a red started to bleed into Derek’s eyes until they were burning bright. For some reason Stiles felt a smile tugging his own mouth. He rested his hand to Derek cheek and just stared. He let out a laugh and brought the other hand in front of his mouth.

_There had been something red in the middle of all the white._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. Shit is getting real and soon things might get creepy.  
> But Stiles has Derek so it's cool, right?
> 
> I really need to study, so it took a while to update. Sorry about that.


	15. I've seen the lines between them fade

There was a lot of white. There was a whole lot of emptiness where he was, just like it had been inside of him for a long time.

 _This is how it feels_ , he thought.

“How awful”, he worried his lips.

He noticed that there was a building next to him, or at least the beginning of a building. He realized that he was holding a brick in his left hand. It was heavy and it felt rough against his skin, making scratches across his palm. As he looked at the object in his hand, he let out a sigh. He turned to the building and placed the brick to the top of the wall, not higher than seven feet.

There were bricks on the ground, and so he started to collect them. One by one he added them to the unfinished wall. He kept going until he heard a voice.

“You think this is for you?”

The boy ignored it and picked one more brick.

“It will never do,” the familiar voice kept calling.

“Huh?” Stiles finally turned to look at his pale, dark eyed nightmare.

“You think you could have something like this,” the creature waved at the structure, “whatever it is.” He smiled maliciously.

“Well…I don’t know,” the boy felt nervous talking, “I can’t see why not.” And so he kept building it higher and higher.

“Just a pile of stones,” he could hear the voice whisper next to him.

“No it’s not,” he felt like he needed to defend it because it was his, his alone. “It’s a home,” his voice sounded awfully weak.

“…Stupid.”

“Excuse me?” he turned to look to his left furiously but did not see anyone there.

Now the voice came from his right, mocking him, “Stupid little boy.”

Letting go of the piece of stone he was holding, the boy opened his mouth, “I’m-“

“You can’t have it. I’m not letting you.”

“Let me be,” Stiles said annoyed.

“I can’t. I don’t want to. I won’t,” he kept talking to Stiles.

“I don’t need you,” he did not want to look at the creature anymore, he never did.

“Maybe you won’t but you have me anyway.” You could hear a smile in his voice. Stiles could image the sharp teeth flashing as he laughed. The boy had paused for a moment, frightened, but now he kept going.

“Just stop it already. It will fall down.”

“It won’t if I’ll make it right this time,” he argued.

“It will, it always will.”

Stiles felt something stinging his eyes, “No! It won’t,” he said stubbornly.

Then there was a moment, silent as the nothingness itself.

“Ah…” the creature sighed.

“What?” Stiles asked his voice sounding cautious.

“You missed a piece,” he said like he was sorry but there was no compassion in his tone.

Stiles turned to look at where the creature had pointed and it _all_ fell down.

A sound died in boy’s throat as he saw it all happen in his widened amber eyes. He was standing beside the pile of bricks and stones, sand and dust.

“What did I say,” the dark eyes flashed.

“Shut up,” he bit his lips and stared at what was in front of him.

“Did building it make you feel any better?” the voice said like he cared. Like he could actually manage to feel in such way. “After it all broke apart?”

Stiles did not want to hear any of it.

“Child-“ the voice lingered, “did it make you happy?”

He hated this.

“I think,” the creature began to speak, “that after all this, you’re going to be emptier than ever. It’s your choice.”

Stiles shook his head.

“I wouldn’t mind it, though,” he sounded pleased. “Become an empty shell. Better for me,” he was grinning disgustingly.

Stiles, on the other hand, felt sick. Everything felt more and more repulsive with every passing second. He wanted to be able to do something. Stiles wanted to hit him, make him suffer.

“Oh, I like the sound of that thought,” the grin grew even wider.

“What did you do?! Why do you always have to ruin things?” he cried out.

“ _You_ caused it,” he answered calmly.

“I didn’t. I-“

“It was all you, Stiles,” the creature tilted his head playfully.

“No, I didn’t mean to...” he could not focus his eyes to anything. It kept getting blurry and confusing.

“You really think so?”

“NO!” he paused after shaking his head rapidly, “I mean yes!”

“Does it feel good to blame the others? Makes it a lot easier, doesn't it?” Mocking – the voice was mocking him again.

“Don’t turn this around, not again. It’s not going to work,” he muttered wiping the sweat pouring down his neck. Why was he feeling so shaky?

“Of course it will,” he smiled hideously, “…it always will.”

“Not this time,” he screamed – too late, like always, _too fucking late._

And then that face faded slowly away.

 

* * *

 

Stiles took a sharp breath as he opened his eyes.

 _It – wasn’t real_ , he shut his eyes again.

He realized that he had fallen asleep, _such a joy_ , he groaned. The boy hid under the covers.

 _Wait_ , he stilled suddenly. Why was it that he could not remember going to sleep, like at all. His cheek rested on a soft pillow which definitely was not his. But it actually smelled kind of nice, so instead of jumping awake from his slow slumber, he buried his face closer and took a deep breath. He could totally blame the tiredness that had swept over him.

He really did not want to open his eyes. It was too tiring to be awake, it was too tiring to be asleep. Being in between was probably the best feeling he had had for a while. He sighed.

Still, unfortunately as minutes passed by, he felt more and more aware of his surroundings. And he actually started to feel worried about things, for example, where the hell was he? Stiles moved his hand across the soft surface. Yup, definitely not his bed.

“Fuck,” he groaned and turned around, still clinging to the sheets. Stiles scrunched his eyes trying to look around the room where the bed was placed.

Why was it so light, he wondered as he tried to open his eyes wide open without much success. Soft morning light made the room look very dream-like. One of the smallest windows was open and he could feel the fresh air coming in. Curtains which weren not covering the windows fluttered slowly, and for a moment, he thought that he had ended up in twilight zone. It seemed like a good explanation at that moment.

He really should find out what the heck was going on, though. _Right?_ Stiles kept the conversation going on in his head until he felt stupid hiding there from the reality. He messed his hair and stared at the ceiling which was made of warm colored wood. Not his own room, he reminded himself as he cautiously sat up now hugging the covers like it was some kind of shelter for him.

Stiles took his time scanning the room, feeling suspicious as the boy narrowed his whisky brown eyes.

There were a lot of different shades of wood in the room’s furniture, floor and window panels. Walls were painted forest green and he thought aloud, “How earthy.”

“Thanks,” an unexpected voice answered.

As fast as he could, Stiles turned to look who had walked to the previously empty room.

He blinked couple of times before opening his mouth, “Derek.” The words he let out sounded rough for some reason so he cleared his voice and repeated himself, “Derek?” like it was all he managed to say. Maybe it was.

A small smile appeared to Derek’s lips as he leaned to the door frame. “Did you have a good sleep?” he asked amused.

“Um,” Stiles gaped his mouth, “Why exactly was I asleep?”

Derek raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip like this all was some kind of inside joke, and Stiles really wanted in it. He narrowed his eyes as the other still had not answered.

“You fainted,” the words fell out.

“Eh?” Stiles’ eyes widened. “Nope, no, I really don’t think that happened.”

“It kind of did,” Derek smiled playfully.

“No – I’m pretty sure it didn’t,” Stiles shook his head because there was no way he would admit the reality.

“And I’m pretty sure I was there to catch certain someone so his skull wouldn’t crack open,” Derek said sounding actually kind of worried but there was still that fond look on his face that he had had the whole time he had been in the room.

“What do you mean I-“ then he remembered. The Hale house – he was in the Hale mansion, Cora’s, Laura’s and apparently Derek’s childhood home. Talia Hale was an alpha but so was, “You,” he looked at Derek.

Derek seemed to notice that the mood changed. He shifted his eyes away from Stiles.

Stiles felt like he needed to clear his voice again. “So,” he peaked at the older man under his eyelashes and their eyes met, “an alpha?”

“So,” Derek quirked his eyebrows, “a spark…?”

Stiles shrugged. He was not doing any effort getting up from the bed. In fact, he was totally comfy just sitting there. Stiles looked down at his hands but kept glancing at Derek who kept looking – staring him. Finally he let out a frustrated groan, “I didn’t notice,” he rolled on the bed and ended up laying on his other side and continued, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice. What was I thinking?”

He could hear Derek shuffling around the room.

“I wasn’t,” he kept rambling before the other had even answered, “and that’s not even the worst thing.”

“There’s a worst thing?” Derek sounded kind of worried.

Stiles did not want to answer. He kind of wished he had the ability to stop the time, even for a moment so he could think, because he was so close blurting out something stupid he could not take back. Like, _I find your early morning look very_ _admirable. It kind of makes me want to drag you to the bed and never let you go._

Or

_I know I’m really lame with my huge teen crush on you and it makes my knees weak and I don’t think I can get up while you’re in the same room breathing the same air, but if you don’t find spending time with me too terrible I’d like it a lot if you’d let me push my hand though your hair. Just touching you makes my spark light up, like in a good way, not in a ‘I’m going to go insane, go all psycho, killing spree and do things I regret’ way._

So, Stiles did not say any of that. Derek kept looking at the boy frustrated.

 _God, his eyes are beautiful. Like whoa – what are you a fallen angel or something? You mister are ridiculous_ , Stiles nodded to himself.

“You know Stiles, I can’t hear what you say in your head. You actually have to talk.” Derek had walked to Stiles who was still half lying on the bed. He was about to brush his finger against Stiles’ forearm but seemed to retreat his own hand at the last moment.

Stiles felt disappointed. He wanted to grab Derek’s wrist and tell him not to do that. People should finish what they started because if the other man had went all the trouble making Stiles crave the touch, contact, something.

“I was worried about you,” the older man finally said after neither of them had said nothing more. Stiles looked up mouth slightly open. “You just fainted-“

“Did not-“

“Stop!” Derek said sharply. “You fainted.” He did not let Stiles look anywhere else. “Your eyes rolled back,” Derek said seriously. “This,” he rested his hand on Stiles’ chest, “your heart skipped a beat.”

Stiles gulped, not knowing what to say.

“For a moment, I think you stopped breathing,” Derek’s eyes looked lost, “It’s not a joke, or something to be embarrassed about.”

“I know,” Stiles muttered, secretly enjoying the feeling of others hand still touching him. Not that he was admitting it aloud.

“What was it?” Derek demanded his voice low.

Stiles knew it was not just a sleep deprivation nor a panic attack. It had been awhile since he had seen the dream like this. He had nightmares all the time but somehow he knew that this was more. Stiles thought about the girl talking to him in his earlier dreams he had had after he moved to Beacon Hills. All the time he had been scared what was coming after him but how come he had not thought that something buried underneath was still there, sealed, forgotten, but not gone.

It was pushing to the surface again after a long time, talking to him, trying to manipulate him. Stiles clenched his fist and for some reason Derek took it as a sign that he needed to move his hand away from the other. Stiles looked panicked, eyes wide.

“Was it,” Derek started weakly, “because of us, because of me?” He leaned further away from Stiles.

Stiles opened his mouth but not a word came out. _What is he talking about?_

“I mean,” Derek shrugged nervously, “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with us…” – _me_ , was left unsaid. “Lydia mentioned that you actually didn’t want anything to do with my pack. They kept pressuring you and they had no right.” He sounded actually sad.

“NO!” Stiles blurted out his cheeks heating. _Derek is actually blaming himself?_   Without thinking he had gotten up to his knees wanting to get to Derek. He could not let him leave him.

Derek looked surprised. He glanced down where Stiles had his hand clenching on Derek’s shirt.

Stiles noticed he was doing and suddenly let go of the shirt mumbling something like: “It was nothing like that.” He scratched the corner of his eyes. “I’m complete on board with this,” he waived his hands on Derek’s direction.

A smile haunted on Derek’s lips. “With this?”

“Werewolves!” Stiles said. “Um, your alphaness and all…” Then he sighed and tried rub the sleepiness from his eyes. He should not be allowed talk about serious things half awake. “And I know this sounds really weird but.”

“But?” he sounded hopeful.

“I have no idea how it’s possible but in some way I’m not surprised,” Stiles said honestly, and thought about the words he had said himself. He knew it was true.

“You’re not surprised?” Derek narrowed his eyes.

“I was surprised about the whole Hale house thing. I’m completely freaked out that I met two alphas without preparing anything and I’m out of my freaking mind that Scott and everyone know about me and that I passed out-“

“Fainted.”

“Passed out. In a very masculine way,” he ignored Derek. “And that then I saw a creepy dream slash reality check where I was told that I’m an idiot and hopeless for trying anything ever in my life. Also, I have a feeling it won’t be a last time. Then of course it’s not my only problem,” he groaned. “Oh, could you help me with something later? Need to check my runes. I can’t really see my lower back that well with the mirrors.”

Derek blinked. “Yeah, of course.” It looked like he was trying to think back what the boy had just rambled.

Stiles smiled brightly and tucked Derek’s shirt trying to get his attention. “Derek, I trust you. Maybe in some level I’ve already known you weren’t just-“

“A human,” he offered.

“-ordinary,” he smiled some more while playing with the hem of Derek’s shirt.

He got a fond smile from the words he said as the other man messed Stiles hair, as if it did not look already catastrophic enough. Stiles closed his eyes and secretly enjoyed the feeling.

“Good that you’re getting comfortable with me. After all, you’ve already stolen my bed,” Derek laughed while Stiles froze.

Stiles blinked slowly, “Oh.” He bet that his face was burning again.

“Should be careful.” Derek’s eyes flashed and Stiles gulped. “My sofa might get jealous.”

Derek grinned and _is it getting hard to breath here -_ or was it just him? Maybe he should go to see a doctor because it had been happening A LOT lately.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been awhile BUT finally - the next chapter! I have to defend myself because my computer kind of broke down and I lost a lot of stuff and I really just wanted to cry. (I actually might have cried, can you blame me?)  
> Anyway, in this time I did couple of entrance exams for some colleges and I got in. Here I come my first choice so, yay. I actually have to move to another city and it's going to get busy soon. Maybe this time I can keep updating stuff.
> 
> The bottom line is, I'm back and so is the fic. Even though, I haven't been updating I've seen you guys liking and reading 'Show me that you're human you won't break', so thank you (Why did I choose such a long name?). Really, it makes me glad. I might have had a bit of a realization that actual people are reading this and I felt so embarrassed like wow. Kind of got over it and now I'm getting something done. Still, it's weird to read the earlier stuff I've written for this so let's see what happens.


	16. It gets me thinking, but I shouldn't think like this

“I should probably get up,” Stiles sighed.

“Yeah, you could.” Derek smiled.

“Are you saying that there is I chance that I could keep on lazing around, because you should honestly should be careful what you promise,” he joked.

“Maybe you should be the one being careful with what you wish for,” Derek said almost too low to Stiles to hear. And even though, Stiles did hear, he had to blink a couple of times wondering if he had heard right.

Derek was already walking to the door. “Take a shower and come to downstairs. We’re going to have some breakfast,” he said before leaving the room.

Stiles was left once again alone. He took a second look at the room before getting up from the bed. He dragged the blanket with him but let it fall to the floor when he was midway to the bathroom door. It made him feel better that Derek’s room had its own bathroom, after all, he was in a stranger’s home, uninvited. And oh boy did he feel embarrassed. Just a thought of yesterday made him groan. He took his clothes off, leaving them lying to the tile floor. He should have asked what time is was. It made him feel anxious not knowing.

Stiles washed all the sweat away. There was an underfloor heating and it warmed his feet nicely even after he came out from the shower. Stiles dragged his hands against the mirror to wipe the fog from it. Behind his palm he found himself; his eyes looked alerted but still tired. Were his cheekbones sticking out a lot more than before?

 _I need to get hold of myself before I slip away_ , was the thought he had before he returned to the bedroom. The cold air made him shiver. He went to take a closer look at the wardrobe he had spotted earlier and opened it without thinking twice. Stiles picked some clothes in hurry and put them on. Everything felt a bit too loose on him. Still, he noticed that the t-shirt was not as big as the ones he had used when he had been at Derek’s. It made him want to explore the room some more. It was Derek’s old room, a teenager’s room, but Stiles did not find it that different than the one where the other was living now.

 _I guess people don’t change that much after all_ , Stiles smiled to himself.

He was about to leave the room but then he decided to find a hoodie, sweater or something that would keep him warm. He opened the wardrobe once more and left the room wearing a Beacon Hills High School hoodie which reminded him the Lacrosse hoodie that Scott and others had worn at school.

Stiles did not get far. He stopped walking when he had reached to the top of the stairs. He had noticed from Derek’s window that they were on the second floor, though, Stiles really did not want to think how he got there, because if what he had been told was true, it was not by his own feet. Also, it hit him hard how weird is was him to be in some strange pack’s house. He should not be there in the first place. Stiles was getting mad at himself, for being so careless, so helpless, so weak, for being himself.

He had no idea how long he had been standing there just staring at the stairs when he noticed Derek standing at the bottom stair.

“Hi,” Derek said, tilting his head which made it look like a question.

“I’m good,” Stiles said shortly.

“You want to come downstairs then?” Derek’s mouth twitched.

“Yeah,” he took a breath, “I’m working on it.”

“I can see that.” The bastard seemed to think it was funny.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, not giving Derek any satisfaction by answering.

“Need any help with the process?”

“It will probably be the best for as all if I use my own legs for this challenging situation, but thanks for offering. It makes me feel really appreciated,” Stiles said but did not make any effort to move.

 _I wonder how many steps there are_ , Stiles thought the stairs between him and Derek. How easy it would it be to just pass them all to get to him _. I should keep the space between us when I still can. Yeah, the distance is good._ The problem was that he did not know if he was able to do it anymore. Had he already passed the point where he could leave it all at any second? Suddenly everything felt too much.

“Stiles-“

The boy snapped out of his thoughts to notice that Derek had climbed half of the stairs.

“Is there something wrong?”

Stiles thought of saying: fine. It would be so easy, but instead he found himself saying, “I don’t think I even remember how it felt to be fine.”

“I see,” was all the other said to that.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed out.

“You think you could someday be fine?”

Breathing felt like exhaling nails, “I don’t want to tell you no-“

“I could see you being fine.”

“Yeah?” he smiled sadly.

“Absolutely.”

How the thought of losing something that you do not even have at the moment could feel so bad?

 _I’m so afraid because of you_ , he looked Derek with crave eyes. He knew that he could never be the same as before. It made him feel so glad and also horrified.

"Don’t look at me like that,” Stiles muttered quietly, but of course Derek heard.

“Like what?” He leaned to the wall, the posture way too relaxed compared to his expression.

“Like I can’t hold it together,” his voice sounded frustrated. “Like I’m going to break.”

“I’m not going to let you fall apart,” he sounded confident.

“You don’t need to hold me together.” Stiles avoided the eye contact. “I can do this by myself. I know how to do it. I’m amazing at it. Look at me.”

“Yeah,” Derek smiled, “You’re amazing.”

There was no doubt in his voice which made it hard to Stiles to answer with the usual sarcasm. So instead he said, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

There was suddenly another voice coming from downstairs, “Okay, boys we all think this is very heart warming and all, but if you want some breakfast you better come here before the little monsters arrives.” Laura was smirking with her hands resting on her hips.

“Well this couldn’t get more embarrassing,” Stiles said as he saw the other face peaking from the downstairs.

“Do you want some toast, Stiles?” Talia asked smiling.

“Wait, let me take that back,” Stiles said to Derek. “How do werewolves manage with such a little privacy?” he complained.

Derek did not look too bothered. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Don’t know about that,” Stiles finally took the first step to down.

“You have time,” Derek said it like it was a promise, before turning his back to Stiles and going downstairs.

 

* * *

 

As he walked to the room he had only had a chance to quickly glance last night, Stiles felt more nervous than he thought he would. He just stood there for a minute taking everything in. The kitchen was wide and light space. There was a lot of wood used in the furniture which made the room look warm and inviting. Still, it felt like he was intruding.

Talia was cooking something, Derek was talking to her but Stiles could not really heard about what. There was a man sitting on the table. He was feeding a baby who did not look too keen of the idea of eating the orange stuff the man was trying to offer him.

“You are even worse than Derek was, Luke,” he talked to the baby.

At the same time Laura walked in from the door that was on the other side of the room. “Yeah right, no one could be worse than Derek.”

Stiles saw Derek rolling his eyes, the man on the table laughed warmly.

“Oh Stiles, nice that you finally joined us. This is our dad, and the one who’s supposed to be eating is Luke, our little brother,” Laura explained before she sat to the table.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles. I'm Brandon Hale. Unfortunately, I had to work late last night, so I wasn’t able to be here yesterday. Heard it was really dramatic event.”

“Actually I prefer it more to meet people this way,” Stiles smiled stiffly.

“Oh, you mean, after a nice sleepover after you’ve fainted to the strangers living room?” Laura grinned.

“Oh god,” Stiles groaned. The baby was giggling happily for some reason.

“There’s no reason to the ashamed,” Brandon said while he tried to give a spoonful of the baby food to Luke. Brandon had that kind of manly man image, he looked a lot like Derek, or Derek looked a lot like him. It was a fun to see such masculine looking person doing such a domestic thing. He seemed like a gentle person. Nice balance to Talia who actually had made Stiles’ skin crawl last night. Though, he had to admit that now in the morning Talia who was making breakfast, gave different vibes than the one yesterday who went all alpha on Stiles.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Stiles winced at Brandon’s words. “Well I heard a lot last night when I got home, and I’m actually disappointed that Derek hadn’t been too chatty about the matter before. Not that I’m too surprised.”

Derek did not comment as he was pretending to be busy by making coffee.

“Well, you would have known more if Derek wouldn’t have made me promise not to tell about his little convenience store affair,” Laura sighed. Stiles saw Derek almost dropping one of the cups he had taken from the cupboard, he caught them at the last second. Brandon’s laugh was low and soft as Derek cleared his voice.

“Stiles, why won’t you sit down?” Talia offered softly. “The eggs are ready soon. Do you want some toast?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles voice sounded rough. He looked at the large table and the numerous chairs around it. He was awkwardly trying to decide where to sit as the Hale family obviously was not small. Did they have an order? Was there an Alpha’s seat? He was pondering with the choices as he felt Derek putting his hands to Stiles’ shoulder and guiding him to a seat that was next to Laura who was smiling brightly.

Derek went back to the counter to collect two of the cups. He gave one to Stiles, taking one to himself, and sat to the chair that was on Stiles’ other side.

“You couldn’t bring me a cup too?” Laura scolded Derek as she gave him a friendly shove before she went to get a coffee by herself. Derek did not even budged, he just looked satisfied of his own actions.

Suddenly a loud noise reached to the kitchen. It came from the stairs.

“Mom-!” a girl appeared to the door. “Where’s my yellow cardigan? The one with the laces?”

Instead Brandon answered, “The one you wore yesterday?” He wiped Luke’s messy face clean.

“Yes! That one,” she pouted.

“I think Luke ate it,” Laura commented and sat once again down to her chair.

“Lauraaa- no he didn’t!” he girl wailed.

“Oh really? Funny, I was sure I saw him munching something yellow yesterday,” Laura sipped her coffee.

“Dad, she’s lying, right?” she groaned. But the fact, that she did not completely deny the chance of it happening, made Stiles wonder if it had happened before. He looked warily at the baby who looked happy with the attention.

“Here’s your smelly sweater.” A boy appeared to the room and threw the garment to the top of the girl’s head. As the girl looked about 10 years old the boy could not be more than a couple years older.

“Very mature, Andrew,” the girl piped up.

“Ugh. Why does it have to be so noisy in the morning?” Cora groaned as she made her appearance. She made her way to the opposite seat of Stiles’. “Morning Stiles. Did you have a goodnight sleep?” She was obviously amused despite the fact that she was a grumpy morning person.

“Yeah, great,” Stiles nodded narrowing his eyes as he saw Cora rising her eyebrows slightly.

“Good,” she answered.

“Good,” Stiles said. _Asshole._

“Wait, whose that?” Andrew said as he sat down.

Laura smiled “Oh, Stiles Derek’s….,” she thought about it a moment, “-something.”

“Should we have one too? Why does Derek have a stiles and we don’t?” the girl who now wore the yellow cardigan complained.

Laura burst out laughing. “I don’t think Derek’s willing to share this one but good luck with finding one yourself.”

“His name is Stiles and he’s Derek’s guest,” Talia commented. “These two are my children – Andrew and Cecilia.”

“He guys,” Stiles gave an awkward wave.

“Hey Stiles,” the two said in unison and soon forgot that there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Laura, honey could you go check if Daniel is awake? You know how he is,” Talia asked.

“I’m on it,” she said and took the coffee mug with her.

“Daniel is our second youngest,” Brandon commented.

“You guys got a big family,” Stiles smiled shyly.

“Well, my brother’s family have been living here for a while now too, after he passed away,” she said sadly. “They are visiting our relatives in New York at the moment.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Stiles knew how to say.

“What has happened has happened,” Talia said with a wistful expression, “Anyway, we like to keep close with the family. You probably know how it is with our kinds.”

Cecilia narrowed her eyes at the comment but continued eating her toast.

“Here is our little prince,” Laura announced as she walked to the kitchen holding hands with a four-year-old boy. He looked still only a half-awake. She guided her little brother to sit on the chair she had sat before, right next to Stiles.

Derek stood up and went to the fridge.

“Derek get me some pudding,” Andrew told Derek who raised his eyebrow and picked an apple instead and threw it at his brother.

He caught it easily and but did not look too happy. “I didn’t want a _fruit_ ,” he said as it was the most disgusting thing in the whole wide world and threw it back to Derek.

“Shame because that’s what you get,” Derek said smugly throwing it to Andrew again.

“Come on Derek, this is too early for the healthy stuff,” the boy groaned.

“Eat it,” Derek challenged.

“You don’t scare me. You might be an alpha but you’re not mine,” he stuck his tongue out.

Suddenly Derek’s eyes flashed red and you could see his sharp canines. Andrew fell from his chair with a fright, taking the apple with him. Stiles eyes widened.

From the floor you could hear giggling. Cecilia who had been holding her laugh joined him and soon the whole Hale family was chuckling, Derek grinned. He closed the fridge and returned to his seat. He shrugged at Stiles who was staring at him with a surprised expression.

“Werewolves,” Stiles muttered.

Cecilia turned sharply to look at him, “He knows.”

Andrew’s head poked from behind the table, “Really?”

“Oh he knows,” Laura said and ruffled Daniel’s hair.

“…And we’re cool about it?” Cecilia continued.

“We are very happy about it. Right, Derek?” She gave a full knowing smile.

“Sure,” Derek was suddenly very quiet.

The little girl pursed her lips and, for a moment, she really reminded him of a one specific redhead. Then she smiled satisfied and said, “Fine.”

Stiles didn not know what to say anymore so he finally decided to take a sip from his cup. But when he had tasted the bitter taste on his mouth he turned to Derek. “Really?” he said bewildered.

Derek smiled slyly. The bastard had given him tea instead of coffee and he looked happy that the other finally noticed. Stiles _really_ needed his coffee. Thankfully Derek switched his cup with Stiles’ without a further argument. Stiles grabbed it with haste and took a big gulp of it.

“I love you,” he said without thinking and drank some more.

The other Hales seemed noticed what he had said before Stiles himself did. They were staring at him with a different expressions, for example Laura delighted, Talia amused, Cora interested, Andrew surprised - the boy had apparently started to eat the apple from before but now he had stopped his teeth still stuck in the fruit.

When Stiles noticed the staring he did not really understand the reason, so instead he said, “You have a nice coffee machine.”

Derek cleared his voice, “Yes we do.”

“See what I meant?” Laura commented to her mother. “You guys are sickening,” Laura said with the biggest grin so far.

Before Stiles managed to answer he noticed that a piece of toast has appeared to the corner of his plate. Next to him he saw Daniel staring at him curiously. Stiles smiled at him and the little boy looked determined before he went back drinking his glass of orange juice. Stiles ate the mystery piece of toast and decided that it was best if he just concentrated to drinking his heavenly coffee. Soon enough, he noticed Daniel slipping a piece of mandarin to his plate. It was kind of a weird gesture but Stiles did not really mind.

“Oh this is golden,” Laura said. She was now sitting next to Cora who was shaking her head.

“Why is he exactly…?” Stiles started.

“Feeding you?” Cora spoke up.

Laura smiled. “Well, he has been sniffing you since he sat down and you obviously stink like Derek-“

Cecilia and Andrew giggled at that. Stiles on the other hand looked confused.

“What they are trying to say is, Derek is pack. The scent of Derek is in you, he naturally thinks that you are someone who we need to look after,” Brandon explained carefully.

“I- what?” Stiles blinked. “That’s kind of sweet, I guess,” Stiles said still not completely sure what was going on.

“Just drink your coffee,” Derek commented next to him, and that was what Stiles did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update!  
> I know, I can't believe it myself. And yes, I am still alive and breathing.  
> I should have been writing something completely different today but oh well. I've been getting some notifactions on this week about some readers giving kudos to this fic, so it made me want to give you guys this. Thank you all. Now I REALLY need to get back to work and get something else done.  
> I hope you enjoy the new chapter!


	17. A sea of self-infliction that I felt

Stiles was about to mention about checking his runes to Derek when he suddenly realized that it was Friday. He got amused reaction from the Hale family as he stood up suddenly with a terrible shriek leaving out of his mouth. He started to blabber about school, homework, clothes – and _his DAD_. It was a second day in a row not sleeping at home. But as he was about to flee from the scene to call his dad and figure everything out, he noticed Derek’s hand holding him back. He looked at the warm pressure on his upper arm and then looked up to see Derek who soon explained that it had all been taken care of. Scott had been fast thinker last night and figured it was good idea to contact Sheriff and explain him the situation. Well, maybe not exactly in the way the evening had actually gone. Derek promised that he could take him and Cora to school when his younger sister had loudly complained how he usually never took her to school. She did not even look mad, just smug, as she quickly made a fast up and down movement with her eyebrows to Derek who looked just annoyed. Stiles sent a fast text to his dad before they left, knowing that he was at work.

The ride itself had beenuneventful. Cora had pushed him to sit in the front seat next to Derek as she climbed to backseat. She bickered the whole ride about the music choices Stiles made while her brother looked totally fine not taking part in any of that – for a while till the other two managed to pull him into the argument about if the channel that was on was playing only old people music as Cora claimed. Derek looked like he had aged five years during the drive when he finally parked to the school yard. His sister climbed off the car waving at the other two looking delighted as she had had time of her life. Stiles came to the conclusion that she probably lived by the misery of other people. He nodded to himself but stopped when he noticed Derek looking at him amused. Instead of being annoyed Stiles quirked his lips while he looked at the older man smiling. When he finally realized that it would be better to actually get into the school building he waved awkwardly at Derek who surprisingly brushed the back of Stiles’ neck with his hand. He leaned to the touch as Derek’s hand lingered on his nape a second longer than necessary. Stiles could see him leaning a bit closer as he took a deep breath.

“You should get rid of those runes,” he said looking slightly bothered.

“I like my runes,” Stiles narrowed his eyes the corner of his mouth still upturned.

Derek’s answer was just another pair of narrowed eyes. Stiles knew how the runes masked the scent of his supernatural abilities, mostly at least.

“You might change your mind when you see them on me,” he said slowly. His expression turned gleeful as an interest showed on Derek’s face.

“Bye Derek,” he said grinning as he turned to walk away with a hasty pace.

He walked from the door only to be scared to death by Erica who had been lurking in the corner obviously waiting for him.

“Oh my god,” Stiles groaned.

“I show you mine if you show me yours,” Erica said smiling.

“Stop eavesdropping,” he complained.

“Never,” she said and walked another direction where Stiles has heading. The boy sighed and kept walking. He knew there were going to be questions later on. He was glad that the others seemed to let him ease in and not attack him with bunch of question for the first thing in the morning. Stiles made a last longing look to the exit before walking to his locker. Fortunately it would be weekend soon. Unfortunately at the moment nothing felt like soon enough.

 

* * *

 

Stiles sat through the next two lessons in daze, eyes dead staring at the back of teacher’s head or the white wall on the top of the blackboard. He snapped out of it as he packed his bag and walked out of the classroom. The boy took his time walking to the cafeteria, but for some reason he was still surprised how fast he had arrived there. He stared at the double doors three minutes, took a step back and walked away. Or, he had walked away if he had not come to face Jackson’s and Lydia’s face who had been standing behind him. Neither of them looked impressed.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles voice sounded high.

“Are you getting in?” Lydia pursed his lips.

“Well, actually I was thinking–“ he stopped the sentence as he realized himself how convincing he sounded. It was just sad. “Yeah,” he said resigned.

He felt lightheaded as he sat to the empty seat staring at his sandwich. When he finally looked up he noticed Cora who had been staring at him. He responded to it with his own pair of eyes. Then Cora leaned back like she was happy with herself or something. Stiles took the water bottle from the table and started to open it without glancing away from Cora. Still keeping his eye contact, he raised the bottle to take a sip.

“Been lot at Derek’s lately?” She said without missing a beat and Stiles spit out the liquid from his mouth. The water landed mainly to Jackson’s face and the rest of it was on Isaac’s jacket.

“Duuude,” the boy said disgusted. Jackson on the other hand looked like he was ready to strangle Stiles who gave both of them a sheepish smile and turned back to Cora.

Tens of lies went through his head as he was considering the answer but he ended just saying, “What about it.”

It seemed like the group’s whole attention was in the conversation like they had waited it to happen.

“Stiles,” Scott calmly started to speak like he had been carefully thinking whole this conversation should go. Stiles just wondered if he was afraid of him or how he would react. “Yesterday Derek told us not to worry. He told us to go home and that they would take care of you.”

Stiles remembered Derek telling him how Scott had figured it to be better to contact the sheriff. He just nodded.

“I understand that you’re in a,” Scott took a deep breath, “complicated situation. But you know that we – I can be trusted.”

“WE can be trusted,” corrected Allison.

“I thought you kicked the bucket when you fell yesterday,” Erica said with a small worried voice, “looking so lifeless.” Her hands were in a tight fist leaning to the table as he sat. Stiles could see some memories flashing in her eyes. Next to her Isaac was drawing circles to the table with his fingertips. He was biting his lower lip, hard. On Erica’s other side, Boyd did not look as stoic as usually. For a second his and Stiles’ eyes met.

“Maybe I am not to be trusted,” Stiles muttered.

“Cut the bullshit for once Stilinski,” Lydia said loudly, and Stiles got startled with a sudden rise of a voice.

Surprisingly Jackson looked like the calm one as he put his hands to his girlfriend’s shoulders. She huffed but leaned to the touch not caring about the attention they have gotten from the other tables.

“Maybe we should continue this somewhere else,” Cora said her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Scott agreed.

Stiles sighed avoiding any more gazes. Instead he turned to look at to his right where someone was picking a broken plate from a floor. He had missed the crashing sound.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was walking to his next class when he heard Scott calling his name. He turned around to see them all looking at him. Scott gave a hopeful smile, “Is it okay if we come to visit you later today?”

Stiles scanned the group with his eyes before looking at the lockers nodding jerkily and saying, “Okay,” knowing that the werewolves would hear. _Okay_ , he repeated in his head before continuing walking away.

The rest of the Stiles’ lessons went without never actually getting his whole attention. His skin felt numb but his insides were thrumming. The blood felt thick rushing through his veins.

The thought of falling back to Derek’s bed and wrapping to his sheets passed his thoughts, but he did not let himself on to hold it long, like he never got to have anything permanently. Stiles felt stupid as he felt his eyes sting a little. He cleared his voice just to notice that he math class was over, and other students were already gathering their stuff while he still sat dumbly on his chair.

 

* * *

 

At home he did the dishes, vacuumed the floors and walked to the backyard. _The spring was still far away_ , he thought. He had abandon his socks to the veranda and was now walking on the dead grass. He leaned over to touch the ground with his hand – just to feel something. He opened his eyes as he felt the earth breathing under his feat.

His thoughts wandered to his runes. The need to look at them, to find out if everything were on their place, the thought washed over of all his other worries. He walked to the upstairs removing his shirt and throwing it to his bed. He knew that he could not get a perfect view even with a mirror. After giving up at trying to see anything by glancing over his shoulder he went through the cabinets. He finally found a plastic hand mirror, he used it to see the reflection from the bigger mirror. The tattoos on his back looked fine. The black ink was still dark and strong against his pale skin, for now this was good enough. He could ask Derek to take a closer look later. Stiles ran his hand through the others, not permanent runes, which he had drawn on his skin in different ways. The boy picked a permanent marker from his computer table and started to color the vegvísir that had slightly started to fade away on his lower abdomen, just over where his right leg began. It was his compass, though, he did not know if the rune even worked. A way to prevent getting lost. Stiles knew that the same symbol was on his back too, painted with ink. Still, he had a habit of drawing it to his skin over again in a place he could see it.

After all, he did not want to get lost anymore.

 

* * *

 

“Stop pacing around, son,” Sheriff sighed he had gotten enough of Stiles pacing around the house restlessly.

It was a rare event when Stiles did not add a sarcastic comment to the conversation. He just nodded and walked to his bedroom. He did not thought that it was possible, but as soon as he rested his head to the pillow, he fell asleep. And for a moment, he was taken away. Away from the day, from the world and he slept quietly and dreamed a blank dream, unconsciously wishing that it would never end.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Stiles heard someone calling his name, he almost jumped from the bed while trying to maintain the balance, he failed miserably. Stiles tried to flatten his hair, he just knew the attempt was not going anywhere. Finally giving up, he ran to the stairs finding out that his dad had already let his son’s visitors in. Stiles waived at them lamely not knowing what to do with himself. His skin was buzzing. It did not feel like he was completely awake.

“You wanna come upstairs?” Stiles asked awkwardly.

“Yes, finally. Thank you,” Erica grinned and turned to John once more, “Nice meeting you, Mr. Stilinski!”

Stiles’ dad just gave an amused nod.

Erica was the first one climbing up the stairs as she dragged Boyd with him, Isaac followed them. Then Scott and Allison walked past Stiles. Scott gave Stiles a friendly pat on the shoulder. Lydia looked collected as she led Jackson in to the room, too. She glanced Stiles’ bed hair with pity, Stiles sighed trying to flatten the mess on his head. Lastly, Cora pushed Stiles to his own room. “Let’s get in looser,” she smiled actually friendly this time.

“So, umm…” Stiles’ eyes surveyed the room.

Lydia had settled with his computer chair as Jackson leaned to the wall next to her. Allison and Scott sat on the floor, leaning to the bed which Erica had claimed. Boyd was sitting calmly next to her in a much more polite manner while the other obviously did not care that she did not actually own the bed. Boyd looked at his girlfriend with a rare smile. Isaac was sitting on the extra chair Stiles had in his room. Cora walked to Isaac nudging him so that the boy gave her more room to sit on the room owner’s messy desk. She shoved the papers further to the table so that about dozen of them slipped to the floor. Stiles gave her an unimpressed look, she shrugged.

Stiles tried to start again, “Okay. So–,” but before he managed to say more Cora interrupted him.

“I. Fucking. Knew. It.”

“Umm, what?” Stiles looked at her confused.

“The shirt you were wearing yesterday, that one was Derek’s too, right?” She’s eyes narrowed as she waited for a reaction.

Stiles gaped. A memory of him staying over at Derek’s flashed in his head and all he could utter was a lame, “Yeah.”

Cora looked victorious as she leaned to the table she was sitting on, making more papers fall to the floor.

“Would you mind,” Stiles said annoyed gesturing his course material on the floor.

“Not at all,” she said and made no sign of moving.

Stiles gave her a withering look.

“Speaking of Derek, is he coming?” Scott asked.

Isaac answered to that, “I was at his place earlier. When I was telling him where I was going Derek just said that he got something to do and that ‘we’ll see later’. So that’s it, I guess.”

“Yeah, I sent him a text earlier and he answered just with ‘okay’,” Stiles made air quote.

“Please, never do that again,” Lydia looked at Stiles hands like they were offending her.

“You and Derek text to each other?” Erica said interested.

“Well, yeah. We chat sometimes,” Stiles blinked.

Cora cocked her eyebrows. “And he actually answers to you?”

“How else would I have a conversation with someone,” Stiles snorted.

“I think you could manage,” commented Isaac grinning. Stiles rolled his eyes. Like he had not heard that one before.

“Actually, now that I’m thinking about it he was pretty distracted with his phone when he was on our weekly dinner last week. I heard when he got a message, he had left his phone to the living room so he kept glancing at the door. I thought he was planning an escape because Laura had made her special dessert. I wouldn’t have blamed him. We all have been there,” Cora thought aloud.

“Lately Derek actually have been turning us down when we have been trying to come to his place,” Boyd said and Erica nodded.

“Yeah, last time he told me that he got something important to do,” Isaac said while turning to look at Stiles.

“Well it seems he obviously had something important to do,” Erica emphasized the ‘do’.

Suddenly Stiles felt really uncomfortable standing in the middle of his room, so he walked to lean on his door. “I’m too exhausted to do this.” Allison gave him an apologetic smile. Since he woke up something has been pounding in his head constantly, like a dull pulse numbing his mind making it hard to think.

“So, are you–,“ Scott tried to find words, “–fine?”

“Yeah, thanks for calling my dad by the way.” Stiles tried smile but he felt like it was forced. He hoped they could not tell it from his face.

“Wasn’t a problem,” Scott smiled effortlessly.

“So, I guess you guys have heard bits from here and there,” as he talked he glanced at Lydia, “but you have to understand that me meeting any of you wasn’t planned. Any of this shouldn’t have happened. I was just going to meet my dad. That’s all I wanted to do for a while. This all was an accident. I’m here to stay with my dad, for now on at least. I’m personally not going to do any harm to the supernatural society of the Beacon Hills whatsoever. You could think me being here as for a…vacation. A vacation with a plenty of stress and apparently werewolves. Didn’t see that one coming when I took the buss here.”

He did not know why he made it all sound so defensive, maybe it was because they acted like he was their friend and Stiles had gone along with it. Stiles did not do friend. Well, he did not do friends who were still in their right minds. What he was familiar was crazy, unstable and brute. And he was talking about werewolves now, how they were not crazy enough on his scale. Maybe he was just already gone too far too many times.

“We aren’t worried about you or anything, you know that. But Stiles, you’re not staying?” Lydia looked confused.

“I– don’t know, yet,” Stiles said thoughtfully.

“Are you going to go back to where you came from.” The look on Isaac’s eyes was sharp.

“Not planning on doing that,” Stiles answered fast, he shook his head.

“Stiles, you know that you don’t have to go anywhere,” Scott said.

“I don’t think anyone minds if you stay here,” Allison continued.

“Trust me, if I feel like I need to go, it is most likely not because of any of you guys. Never met any werewolves nice as you,” the only ones he had actually met before had not been the luckiest creatures in the planet. Stiles felt like the worst person.

“Then what is it?” Jackson gritted his teeth annoyed as Stiles was not giving them a clear answer.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy. Can tie my own shoelaces and all,” Stiles joked as he neglected the real reason.

“You’re frustrating,” Cora complained.

“Just part of my charm,” he said without thinking twice.

“Derek said that we could help you,” Scott was nodding to himself, like it would fix everything.

 _Naive_ , Stiles thought. “I’m fine but thanks,” he said.

Lydia was now glaring at him. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Life’s far from easy.” Stiles smile was playful and voice dark.

“You’re making this only harder for yourself,” Allison spoke out.

“Better me than someone else,” Stiles made no effort to hide that thought.

“You really are self-destructive, huh?” Cora commented.

That actually got a laugh out of Stiles. “That’s not exactly I would go with, but feel free to think so if you want.”

The tension in the room was building.

“You have right to more than this,” Scott said like he knew better. Allison next to him squeezed his hand tighter.

Stiles was actually annoyed. What would they know? If they did, they would not be defending his rights. He rested his eyes on Lydia. “Help, you say? Maybe I don’t deserve any of that.” She was focused on him, eyes narrowed and lips knitted together. Even she had felt it. _Like a walking cemetery_ , she had said. Death was what she had seen in him, even he knew it. He had felt the sticky red liquid on his hands and tasted it on his own lips, the taste of iron. And what was the worse of them all – happiness, pure joy.

“Is someone coming to you? You said earlier something about that,” Scott tried.

“Yeah,” Erica nodded, determined, “We have dealt with bunch of shit before. Alphas, omegas… a kanima."

“Kanima?” Stiles paused his thoughts for a second.

Erica’s eyes wandered to Jackson.

“Oh,” Stiles said. “Wouldn’t have guessed.” But no wonder he had sensed something confusing on him before. _That was it, I guess._

“What I mean is,” she tilted her head, like she was trying really hard to get Stiles to understand, “we can handle it.”

Stiles was frustrated. He rubbed his forehead. “What you don’t get is, I don’t need any of that.”

“Stop being so headstrong,” Isaac muttered, and Jackson crossed his arms like he was agreeing with the other.

“Hey, I am not the one who can’t take no for an answer.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Cora said.

“No,” Stiles tapped his fingers against the door he was still leaning, “ _You_ don’t get to say that. I know my own situation well enough.”

“Come on Stiles. We are here for you,” Allison spoke out.

“How do I say this nicely?” he sighed, “What I need is you to back off.” It might have come out a bit angry.

“If you would only tell us what’s wrong I’m sure it would be fine,” Scott said.

That made Stiles turn his head like he had been slapped.

“Fine?” his mouth was left hanging open as he collected his thought, “Oh, I’m fine. I’m peachy. I Am A Fucking Alright.”

“Stiles–” Scott paused for a moment like he was listening something, “Derek’s–“.

“Scott, let it go. I’m not listening this anymore.”

“But he–“ this time Isaac started.

“Stop it,” Stiles almost growled.

“Dere–“ Boyd tried.

“I don’t need to hear this,” Stiles muttered, not wanting to listen anymore. He had already decided long time ago. His business was his business. He was the one who made himself stop before. He was the one who decided it was enough. He was the one who secretly worked unfair hours in various jobs, just to get enough money for his runes. By himself he took the beating when they found out. And he still did it again. He was the one who blocked the bad away. In the end, nothing has changed.

“Hear us out!” Lydia stood up.

Stiles realized that now they all were standing. Everyone in the different sides of the room.

“I’ve heard enough.” Stiles head was pounding. _Thump thump thump._

“Stiles!” Erica growled.

“Get out,” Stiles said calmly but with an edge on his voice.

“This wasn’t supposed to go like this,” Lydia muttered to Jackson.

“All of you. Get. Out.”

“This isn’t like you,” Scott reasoned.

“How would you know,” Stiles said “How would any of you know?”

“I know,” Scott said like he was sure, like he was so fucking sure and it pissed Stiles off.

“No you don’t,” Stiles snarled because even he did not know.

“We have learned that there is always a way. Always, even though it feels like it’s hopeless. There is hope,” Scott walked closer to Stiles.

“Get out get out get out,” he chanted. It was kind of funny how many times in his life he’s been doing that in his own head.

“Stiles, if you would just wait a moment. Derek is–“ Cora said with a frustrated voice.

“For fuck’s sake,” Stiles groaned and turned to open the door behind him. He was going to kick them all out in a way or another. He would drag their asses out. He was about to touch the door handle, but before he managed to do that, it turned itself. Because Stiles was already leaning to the door he took a one hasty step forward as it opened.

He was eye to eye with Derek.

“Get out,” he said with a voice so hoarse it sounded more like a whisper.

Derek, he looked like he wanted to help. And Stiles wanted to say _don’t you dare_.

Suddenly the headache stopped for a second, and he heard loud and clear the familiar voice saying: _‘You think you’re so tough now? Just a child waiting for a right moment to stick his hands to a stove and burn himself.’_

“Get out,” it came out as a whine.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice sounded worried.

Stiles focused his eyes back to Derek and he knew what the other saw.

“Your eyes,” Derek furrowed his eyebrows.

Stiles pupils had shrunk, like they do when one is staring at the sun. Just small dots in the middle of his amber eyes. He remembered how they made him look, haunted. When Stiles finally reacted, he covered his eyes with his hands, cursing. Stiles knew this was nothing. It happens, it happens when he wakes in the nights and remembers. Most of the time he has the control, even if something pushes to the surface. He still have his runes. Stiles removed his hands that covered his face but he did not open his eyes. Instead, he dropped his head wishing he was alone, but when he felt a hand on his back making his head lean to the solid chest in front of him, he knew that it actually was not true. The young man waited for a shove or that the other would withdraw. It did not happen. Maybe he was glad, maybe he was scared.

Mostly he was scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile. I wanted to complete writing the first part of this other Sterek fic before I updated this one. I really should finish earlier ones before I start writing something new but me and logic never really got along anyway. Now that it's been sometime since I've written a new chapter to Show me that you're human I have some new thoughts about the story. It might even make me update more often. Let's face it, I've been hopeless since fall.
> 
> Thanks for reading and being patient. And thank you for the kudos & comments.


	18. All of your violent delights

Stiles took a one step back, slowly separating himself from the warmth. He took support from the wall for a second…another. Restlessly he fumbled his fingers on it. One more step back. Eyes on the floor, unfocused. He raised his right hand to sweep just under his eyebrow. Unconsciously he shook his head slightly, hands shaking. He was calmer now. He was but–

He just _got to get out._

Stiles swept past Derek, their shoulders brushing momentarily. The younger man leaned closer to the wall to avoid more contact. He slipped out the door and started to walk, feet moving faster and faster until he was in the stairs, which he hurried down, not looking back. Still, he did not run.

He just _got to get out._

Stiles walked right past his father to the backdoor, ignoring his father’s questions. His breath was steady, until it was not. Soon it was ragged, just like how Stiles felt. He wrenched the door open. He needed to breathe clear air, because even though his lungs were telling him that he was breathing he did not feel like it.

He _just got to get out._

The boy headed to the woods nearby. He walked rushing. Stiles did not realize that he was not wearing any shoes, his socks dampened because of the wet gray grass. He rushed further to the woods. He felt his veins pumping his disgusting, dirty, bad blood. His skin did not fit to his polluted body.

He needed to get further, away from those stainless minds. He was not kidding himself, the others were far from pure but he, he was already too far gone.

He gritted his teeth.

 

* * *

 

_“What do you think of angels?” he asked with a sweet voice._

_“What are you trying to-“ a voice asked, confused. It sounded tired and tormented._

_“Personally, I think they’re bullshit,” he continued without letting the other answer. “I mean, like, really? Guardians, saviors all pure clothed in white. Seriously, someone believing something like that is probably demented,” he let out a laugh. He grinned a wicked smile as he played with an object in his hands. It was a sharp metal stick with other end blunt and covered with red._

_There was no answer this time just a loud groan._

_“Hey, are you listening me?” he asked bored. “Rude,” he commented as he saw that other had passed out. So, what he did was grab a hold of the hair, tugging it harshly until the other opened his eyes blinking. “I’m talking here, you know,” he complained._

_“Just let me go,” the other sobbed._

_“Come on, not this again,” he sighed._

_“Let me go,” words slurred._

_“No, no I don’t think so,” he said shaking his head and pressing the metal to other’s cheek softly._

_The other winced as he felt the cold material. “Please.”_

_He twisted his lips as he said mournfully, “You know I can’t do that.”_

_“No no no, you can do it,” the other begged._

_His lips twisted, “Yeah.”_

_The other’s eyes met his hopefully._

_“You're right. I totally could,” he was now nodding his head. Then a smug expression covered his face, he leaned closer so that he was next to others ear. The other probably felt his steady breath. “…I just don’t want to,” he said slowly and pushed the metal spear to others hand. The blunt end sank to the skin. There was a scream. He pushed it further. And further. Further. Further._

 

* * *

 

Stiles was leaning to a tree which branches were spread far beautifully. There was no leaves yet, so the rain washed right through them, falling on Stiles. He was staring at the muddy ground. His shoeless feet had partially sank to the soul, white fabric of socks stained with the dirt.

As he brushed his hands beside his sweatpants, he felt something in his pocket. He took a permanent marker carefully out. He had forgotten it there before he had fallen asleep earlier. Hastily, he removed the cap. It fell to the ground. Stiles stared at the marker he was holding tightly. He sniffed once because of his running nose, and slid down to a sitting position, still leaning to the tree. Stiles placed the head of the marker against his skin, finally noticing his hand shaking. He moved the marker from above of his left wrist, and took a deep breath closing his eyes.

Stiles opened his eyes, focusing them to his wrist again. Clumsily, he drew an unsymmetrical circle to the pale canvas. Thinking again, inside of the circle he draw four strokes which crossed each other. This was something he knew how to do, so he repeated the rune, drew the lines that he had made so familiar to himself by endlessly marking his skin with them. Vegvísir burned against his deceased skin. He opened his palm and drew the rune on it. He stared at the finished picture drawn on his palm.

Stiles counted the fingers. Five and other five. Ten… Still here, he thought.

“Still here,” he whimpered and wiped the rain oozing down his face. The rain water was mixed with something salty. He liked to pretend that he was not bawling his eyes out. It made him feel slightly better.

 

* * *

 

 _They think I’m weak. They think I can’t handle this_ , the boy thought.

But he knew that if there was a one thing he was not, it was weak. He had made through all kind of shit. He might be broken, but there had not been a time he could remember, when he had not been. It was just the way he was, like a personality trail. Jittery, sarcastic, obnoxious, lean and broken. _I’m so depressing,_ Stiles sighed as he leaned closer to the tree. He had been starting to notice the damp ground, he was sitting on.

He stood up without flailing this time and wiped his face. Well, as good as he could at this point. He cleared his voice and started to walk back to his house. Somehow, he remembered the trail he had walked earlier. The wet clothes were getting more uncomfortable every minute. Stiles muttered something to himself. An old woman from next door was walking her dog, she had stopped to look at the odd looking young man. Stiles wished he had his hoodie, but instead he was wearing just a t-shirt. He hunched his back and walked faster.

He walked back to the house from the front door, not even bothering to try to be quiet. The boy entered to the living room where his father was still standing. John’s eyes took in the appearance of his son, sighing. “You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m cool,” Stiles shrugged.

“Sure.” His father looked disbelieving.

“Um,” Stiles ruffled his own hair. ” Are they still…” he nodded his head to the direction of the stairs, his room.

“Still here,” the man said.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded again.

“Should I make them leave?” he asked.

“No,” Stiles now shook his head. “No, it’s fine. They’re fine and I’m fine.” He motioned his hands to himself.

“You’re not too convincing with all that going on.” John actually smiled a bit as he raising his eyebrows stared at the muddy socks on his son’s feet.

Stiles looked down. ”Ugh. Well that’s disgusting. He rolled the socks off his feet, his effort looking unbalanced.”

“Don’t leave those on the floor. Take them all the way to the hamper,” Stiles’ father said.

Stiles felt bad for making the other stress so much. _His life must have been so much easier before I came along_ , Stiles thought sadly as he walked to the kitchen.

“We need to talk about this later,” John said to Stiles from the other room.

“Sure,” Stiles answered. It always surprising him how calm his dad could be with Stiles’ – fits, outburst or urges, whatever you wanted to call them.

 _He did used to live with mom_ , the boy thought. _She wasn’t completely ordinary either._

He opened the kitchen cabinets and started to look through them. On the top shelf he found a teapot that did not seem like John had bought it, a huge white ceramic pot which was nicely shaped. He took a packet of loose tea and put it to the table next to the pot. He put the water heater on and busied himself trying to find the oatmeal cookies he had bought last week, then he picked some mismatched teacups. All of these he laid to the tray before going back to the water that had heated enough. After he had measured enough tealeaves, he poured the steaming water. A divine scent filled the room. Stiles put the lid on he glanced at the ceiling. He could not sense much movement in his room.

Without giving himself more time to think about the others, he walked straight back to his room with the tray. He found everyone staring at him, like he was about to blow up. Then their eyes trailed to the traiy. _They probably thought I want to poison them._ Cookies and tea – that would be a way to go.

“Clear the table,” he said and Cora jumped off from the table she had been sitting on, Isaac started to move the papers aside. Stiles noted that they were the same ones that last time he had seen dropped to the floor by Cora. Stiles put the trail down and moved the teacups from the pile to the table.

Then he walked to the bathroom, dug the dirty socks from the pocket of his sweats where he had earlier stuffed them. He took a quick look at the mirror, grimacing at his own appearance. He shook his wet shirt off and tossed it to the hamper like he did to the socks. He took a towel with him before he went back to his room where others had not moved even an inch. Stiles felt the eyes trailing his movements as he walked to the wardrobe, opened it and picked a clean shirt.

He just knew that he probably seemed like an insane person to them. They looked afraid, and Stiles should not have minded. He put the shirt on. _Let them think what they want_ , he turned to look at them all. _I can do crazy._

“Now, all of you are drinking the fucking tea I made,” Stiles said shortly, and as he saw Isaac opening his mouth he continued, “and no Isaac, I’m not going to get you soda.” Isaac snapped his mouth close. “Then, I’m going to listen all of you complain about how you want to help the poor Stiles who can’t take the heat, but I don’t need a knight in a shining whatever, so I’m going to nod and ignore all of the shit about you and your ridiculous plans.”

Lydia’s lips looked like a thin line when Stiles glanced at her. He could not really tell what Scott was thinking.

_This has gone too far. I need to make more space between us, all of them._

“We aren’t just all talk, you know,” Scott said.

“Well neither am I, but still, no one seems to take my words seriously,” Stiles muttered. There was something new in the looks others were giving him. Jackson avoids the eye contact, so did Erica, Isaac. _Maybe not so obvious anymore. “_ And I bet the little banshee has been sharing a little too much, haven’t you?” he stared at Lydia. “I understand how the pack works. There’s not much room for secrets, but as you know, I’ve been doing my own solo for a while now. So, if you don’t mind, could all of you kindly let me breathe for fuck’s sake.” His expression was straining. _He can do this. Just a little more._ Stiles walked to the table where he had set the tray. He started to pour the tea when he heard Derek talk.

“I know what you’re doing,” the man said.

Stiles pursed his lips. He turned to look at Derek, sipping his tea. Instead of paying attention to Derek’s word he raised his cup and asked, “You want some?”

Derek sighed but nodded. Stiles busied himself with picking a cup for Derek. Stiles saw Jackson and Cora taking quick looks at his hands. He found that the black marker had smudged the handle of the white cup he had held. He opened his palms showing them to others, grinning without any happiness in the expression. “Did some drawing. What do you think? I would be a mad tattoo artist. Well, if I weren’t terrified of needles.”

He did not know if any of them recognized the symbol. He did not care, anyway. He took the cup to Derek, offering it. Derek took it, not breaking the gaze he had kept on Stiles.

“Drink up,” Stiles muttered, his eyes blank.

 

* * *

 

On that night, Stiles laid awake on his bed. He keep glancing at the time from his phone. He had realized that he had not eaten a thing after dinner, he was starving. Stiles closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the feeling. He tried to change the position he was sleeping in. On his back, side, other side, on his stomach.

_No, no, no and no._

He huffed out, curling closer to the wall. There was a crack between the wall and his mattress, so he got up and pushed it closer to the wall and got back to the bed. It was not like he did not want to sleep, he just could not. Every cell in his body was wide awake, but he was exhausted.

The end of their little ‘meeting’ had been weird. They made some points to Stiles. Mostly it was just Derek and Scott talking. He had never seen Cora so quiet. Somehow, Stiles had felt satisfied with himself. Now he was feeling just awful. “Good job Stiles, you’re outstanding at pushing people away,” he talked to himself. Though, he had not missed the determined look on Derek’s face.

He glanced at his phone, another twenty minutes had passed.

His stomach was making unhappy noises, but Stiles was not going to eat anything in the middle of night. He was here in his bed and he was going to fucking sleep, but it was too warm and then it was too cold. Stiles stared at the teapot on the tray, unforgotten on the table. He had not washed the black smudge from the cup, it would probably leave a stain.

Stiles looked at his old fashioned phone he had bought in a hurry when he had decided ran away. He missed the phone he had left behind. This one was just sad. He could not even go to the internet with it, which was the way he had usually wasted his time when he could not sleep. So, this time he instead opened his contact list. Stiles opened a new message and wrote there: ‘ **Are you awake?** ’

Before he thought twice, he pressed ‘sent’. Then he stared at the phone screen thinking “Why did I just do that…”

Derek was probably asleep. Stiles put the phone on his stomach, when he turned on his back to stare at the ceilings with a regretful expression. “I shouldn’t have sent that.” The boy threw the phone to his nightstand and muttered, “This is stupid.”

He tried to close his eyes again. He was going to be tired tomorrow.

He was not expecting the little sound his phone made as thirty second passed. Stiles eyes shot open, and he moved his hand fast to haul his phone. There was an answer: ' **Yes'.** Stiles couldn’t stop his fingers moving.

**SS: did I wake you up?**

**DH: No. I'm reading?**

**SS: reading?** Stiles typed fast.

**DH: I’m a book editor so that’s what I do sometimes.**

Stiles remembered Derek mentioning it before, but the thought of the man in suit in some business meeting was new thought. ' **oh'** , he answered, feeling stupid after. He had huddled the soft material of the cover closer.

**DH: I used to be busier with my work when I lived in New York. Needed to get here when Scott and others happened. Now I mostly work from home.**

**SS: you’re any good?** Stiles couldn’t help asking.

**DH: Yes, or so I have been told.**

**SS: how's the text you’re reading now?**

**DH: It’s good. Not the best this author has written. I need to talk with her with couple of chapters.**

**SS:** **kinda can imagine you being all professional and with tie and everything. Did u wear a tie?**

**DH: I still wear ties.**

**SS: I don’t think I own a tie.** _Not here anyway_.

**DH: Stiles**

**SS: Derek**

**DH: What is it**?

 **SS:** **can’t sleep**

**DH: you should**

**SS: I CAN’T. been trying. not working. also I’m hungry**

**DH: Eat something**

**SS: it’s 4 am.**

**DH: You think the better option is to starve awake?**

Even Stiles knew he was being ridiculous, **no but I don’t know…** Hurrying he typed **why r u awake?**

It was hard to remember that he was supposed to have the whole impassive act going on, but he liked having Derek around. Everyone should have their own Derek around. Why had not he had before? _Oh_ , he remembered his life to this day. _That’s why._

**DH: Full moon is close, keeps me wake sometimes. So I decided to get something done.**

Stiles realized that they had a whole conversation without mention anything about supernatural. **do you get all grrr?**

**DH: I have a perfect control with my shift. So no Stiles, I don’t go all “grrr”**

Stiles’ lips twitched with amusement. After that he just kept blankly staring at Derek’s words.

 **Stiles,** Derek sent. Another one came soon after: **go to sleep.**

 **Okay** , he answered.

Stiles wrote ** _I'm sorry_** in a message, stared at it for a second, erased his writing and laid the phone next to his pillow. When he closed his eyes everything went black.

 

* * *

 

_Stiles was running in the woods. He put another feet before other, faster, he needed to be faster. He heard a sound of a branch breaking, and he turned to look behind. The sight of  an empty forest made him run even faster. He heard someone pacing somewhere, other running. Stiles glanced to his left, seeing a shadow of a wolf running further away, but something else was following him. He looked behind, once more, and saw an animal with a white fur chasing him. The agile son of a bitch kept running after him, reaching him._

_Stiles stumbled on a root sticking from a ground. The boy got up fast and ran. Breathing was painful, but he kept going, until someone grabbed a hold of his left shoulder. Stiles was pulled back. He turned around and saw a shadow of a man, a figure getting closer to him. He was holding something in his hand, and soon Stiles figured out what it was as he felt the cold metallic material sticking into his stomach. Stiles gasped and took a hold of the  other end of the very same stick that has been thrust into him. He felt saliva dripping from to his open mouth or maybe it was blood, he could not tell._

_Stiles closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was standing at the other end of the stick._

_Stiles,” someone gasped out._

_Stiles looked in front of him and saw Scott standing on his place, metal sticking from his skin. He was the one holding the weapon now, he had been pushing it further. When Stiles realized what he had done, he let go of it like it burned._

_“No no no no no,” Stiles chanted, not knowing what to do with his hands, they were shaking._

_“Stiles,” Scott repeated._

_“What do I do?” Stiles asked as he looked his friend with tearing eyes. “What do I do?!”_

_Thousands of thoughts ran through his head._

_‘Should I pull it out? Will he bleed out? But he’s a werewolf so he will heal, right? Right?!’_

_Stiles looked Scott eye to eye. ‘But he will remember.’_

_Stiles took a deep breath, grabbing a hold of the metal once again. As he pulled, Scott’s scream filled the forest._

_"I'm sorry," Stiles cried._

Stiles opened his eyes, he was awake. From his mouth he let out a relieved sob.

He decided, tomorrow he would go to see Deaton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update and it didn't take five months this time. I take that as an achievement.  
> Again, thank you for reading. It always makes me glad that some of you are enjoying this. Stiles is not having too much fun at this point though. Kind of been waiting to put on use the title of this chapter. Again, all of the titles are from the songs of Gabrielle Aplin. I listened a bit too much of her music in the beginning of this fic. Now I'm just listening whatever has the right vibe. Like on this chapter: Sleeping at Last - Bad Blood, Marina and the Diamonds - Savages, Eisley - Ambulance and now when I was finishing Sia - Good Girls cry etc. Also, because of the depressing storyline I had couple of private dance moments with songs Carly Rae Jepsen - I Really Like You (no judging) and Pimeys - Hetki vielä. The second one probably says nothing to most of you guys but the chorus hit pretty close to home for me.  
> Anyway, I'm going to stop now. Less rambling, more sleeping.


	19. You're never safe and sound, 'til all the doors are closed

Stiles woke up on the next day, only to find out, that he had slept approximately two hours.

It was six am when he climbed to his jeep and drove to Deaton’s, following the directions Lydia had given him a while ago. Stiles, of course, had ignored the task as long as he could have. He would not want to say that it was because he was just a really stubborn person, but yeah, it was most likely because of that. So, he had done his absolutely everything to make himself believe that he did not need some emissary telling him what to do with his life.

Saying the obvious, now he was too screwed to go with his plan a. He was still reluctant, but at the same time just really tired of his own choices. If some weird druid, or whatever he was, could do something, anything, at this point, Stiles would take it. He was not ready to put a bullet to his own head, not yet, but the scary thing was that he knew that the day might come soon. So he swallowed his pride, did not inform to the Hale’s or anyone in the pack, and decided to try. It would not hurt any more than he was already hurting.

When he was half way there, he remembered that it was Saturday morning, and it was not very likely that the vet was in his office at this kind of hour. After cursing himself a few minutes, he kept on driving. He could still check, it was not like he was an ordinary vet, he might even do some ‘side jobs’ after hour. Stiles Yawned when he parked his car to the empty parking lot. The air felt fresh, and he wondered why he felt so cold, that was until he realized that he had forgotten his hoodie, again. He was wearing just a t-shirt. The scribbles he had drawn with the marker were more visible than ever.

 _Oh well_ , he thought, not really caring anymore.

He had his hands in his jean’s pockets as he leaned to look from the window if there was any lights on, it did not look promising. He walked to the front door, it was locked. Then he knocked once and waited, but there was no response. He tried few times more before retreating. There was a backdoor visible, so he bluntly walked in front of it and knocked loudly. Stiles grabbed the door handle and pulled. To his surprise, it actually did open. Stiles froze for a second, keeping the door ajar _._

 _Is it breaking in if it just happen to be open and I walked in? It’s not like I’m going to steal anything_ , he thought as he walked carefully inside. Basically, he was a criminal already, so what was a little unauthorized passage at that point?

He noticed that it was some kind of a storage room. The lights were on, and on a small table there was a cup of coffee. _Still warm_ , he observed as he brushed his knuckles against it.

Stiles heard the voice before the man walked into the room.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that I was expecting someone at this time a day.” The man did not look anything out of ordinary, but then again, when had anything been as they seemed at the first glance.

”Deaton, I assume?” Stiles tilted his head.

“I’m sorry to tell you, but we are close,” the man said narrowing his eyes.

“It is Deaton, right?” Stiles kept pressuring.

The man looked Stiles up and down, finally saying slowly, “Yes. Yes I am. Who’s asking?” His eyes had lingered on the boy's self-made runes.

“Lydia, Lydia gave me your address. Told me I should visit you if… Honestly, I don’t even know why. In the end, I don’t know what could you even do for me,” Stiles let out a humorless laugh. “Um, sorry. What I mean is, do you have some time? I’m having some problems. No wait, I’m in the middle of a problem. Maybe the best way to put this all is that I might be the problem.” The boy turned away from the man he was talking to as he said the last sentence.

“I guess you’re not here for some pet troubles then?” Deaton leaned to some white cabinets.

“No. Definitely not,” he shook his head slightly.

“Then, what can I do for you, Mr –?”

“Stiles, it's Stiles.”

“Well then, Stiles. Why don’t you come properly inside, and we can talk, how does that sound?”

“Yeah, yeah we can do that,” Stiles sighed. It was not like he was hoping much from Deaton. But he was not denying that talking to someone did sound rather relieving.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want something? Our coffee taste horrible but it does the job.” The man smiled an all knowing smile. It was obvious that he noticed how Stiles looked like shit. Stiles knew too that his eyes must be at least a bit red, and that the bags under his eyes might be so severe and prominent that they will probably leave permanent lines.

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” the boy said and gave an automatic smile without any real emotion.

“Are you, though?” Deaton asks as he was talking about the weather.

Stiles let out a laugh. “Not even close.” He properly looked at the other man who was observing him. “I’m dealing – with things,” he swallowed, which sounded loud to his own ears. His hands kept fidgeting restlessly. “Did she, Lydia, mention anything about me?”

“You are the Stilinski’s kid, right?”

“Yeah, I'm that too, but I have another reason to be here.”

“Does it got something to do with those?” Deaton’s eyes were trailing the runes.

“Oh, these? I don’t know if they even work, but they give me something to focus, something to believe in. It’s rare to have that kind of things these days.” Stiles moved his right hand over the wrist of his left hand.

“Vegvísir, a guide for those who are lost, trying to find their way. A very old symbol, also, a very powerful one.”

“You think it works?” Stiles asked.

“I think it’s enough if one believes in it.”

That got a glimpse of an honest smile and a nod from the younger man.

“Are those the only runes you have?” Deaton looked like he already could guess the answer.

Without thinking twice, Stiles got up from the chair and lifted his shirt, displaying his upper body. He had no idea if he could trust this guy. Maybe, just maybe, this time he just really wanted to not think about it. He had been struggling for years, he had made plans and he had finally left his 'home' behind. And now, he did not feel like his head could take anymore dealing with everything alone.

Stiles turned his back to Deaton, and he knew that the other had seen the tattoos when he heard a coffee cup break as it hit the floor.

“This – this is…” Deaton walked closer, clearing his throat. There was a moment of silence, before Deaton said with a serious tone, all the lightness gone, “How did you get these?” When Stiles did not answer right away, he continued, “These are no light stuff! This one is a summoning pattern...”

“Some of it is. Not the parts that I got done.”

“Yes,” Deaton said as he could see it, “Yes, there's also a seal. You understand that this many runes made to overrule each other can be–?“

“–Dangerous, idiotic, hazardous…?”

“Yes, all of those, but also, it must be unbelievable painful.”

“Yeah, that I got loud and clear,” Stiles grinned.

“This is not a matter of laughing, Mr Stilinski,” Deaton muttered.

“At this point, I really have no other reaction left. I could start crying hysterically, but I really rather not. I don’t think that raging is going to help right now, so, if it’s fine with you I’m going to go with the dry humour and sarcasm. Helps me to be more of a positive thinker.”

Deaton must have been ignoring everything Stiles just said, because he was going on again about the runes. “When one rune is made for the purpose of repress the other, it’s risky enough but there are so many. Several runes that are conflicted with each other, being drawn in the same body… I can see that the ones underneath are truly dark ones.” He kept going through the symbols that intertwine with each other. “This one should never been used.” The man was shaking his head horrified.

“Do you think that I could make it, despite all the runes? Do you think they can hold up?”

“How much are you willing to talk about your condition?” Deaton asked. “From just looking I can only guess.”

“Only if any of my stories won’t leave this room,” Stiles said with a serious tone.

“I’m emissary for the Hales. It’s my duty to protect them,” Deaton reasoned.

“I’m not asking you to betray anyone. Just leave something without mentioning. It’s not too hard to manage. Trust me, I know,” Stiles said.

“It’s not a good idea to keep this all to yourself.”

“This has been my own problem for years. It’s pretty much a habit. Also, I might not stay here permanently.”

“Are you planning on leaving already?”

“I’m not planning anything,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “but if there is a need to do so, I will.”

Deaton was quiet.

“You know, I’ve come to like them, the Hales and the others. They’re good, I mean like really good, and If I leave it’s better for them too, right?

“You are too young to say things like that.”

Stiles smiled, not saying a thing.

“Talk. At first just talk, and we’ll see then what can be done.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

Stiles took a deep breath and began, “My mother and I lived together for some time. We had countless homes, but honestly I don’t really remember much about that time. But I do remember asking her, where are we going and why can’t we just be. I was a kid, and I had gotten used to it. I only started to wonder, when I saw normal families. Once there was this one big family in the diner. I just stared at them. The children kept bugging each other. The parents told them to behave but for me, even though, they might have seemed like they didn’t get alone, they looked so happy and comfortable together. And I didn’t mind that it was just me and my mom but,” Stiles paused, “I did wonder why was it so.”

“Claudia – that was her name. I don’t know, you might have met her when she lived in Beacon Hills,” Stiles voice trailed off. “Umm, yeah. She comes from a long line of powerful sparks and so do I, I guess. I haven’t really met anyone else from my family other than mom, and now dad,” he smiled slightly. “Early on, she realized that she can sense the earth, air and just altogether the auras far more than many people could. It makes it very easy to connect and at the same time hard to disconnect. In that way I’m lot like her,” he said sounding proud. “Although, it is an incredible feeling to just know things, it’s also a burden. I don’t know about it much, but she told me how she had to leave her home when she was young. Her parents were the ones to tell her to leave. My grandparents were very aware of the supernatural part of the world. I heard that my grandmother was an emissary too,” he said as he glanced at Deaton who listened silently. “But they wanted a peaceful life, and as soon as it was made clear that mother couldn’t have such a life, they showed her the door. It wasn’t as dramatic as it might sound,” Stiles said with a humour in his voice.

“But even though, she always told me that it was also partly her choice, I never believed that she was happy to go. They gave her money and advices, but that’s about it. She left, went to places, met people she liked and people she rather would have not met. Of course she couldn’t really ever go to college, because staying in one place for too long was never a good idea. But she had her skills and she learned more about being a spark. She found herself some connections, and she could use her spark to help people and at the same time to make her living. I still have some of her books with me, the ones I could hide, after… Anyway, she found out more about runes, and not just about runes, about supernatural, what she was able to do, what she wasn’t able to do and what she could learn to do. Not to brag, but she was kind of a badass,” Stiles grinned to himself.

“She happened to come here to do some business, or so I heard, and ended up staying longer than she was supposed to. Then she was going to stay even longer, until she remembered why she couldn’t do that.” Stiles noticed his own voice hushing down. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

Deaton gave a wave of a hand, which Stiles assumed meant ‘go ahead’. Stiles sat to a chair close to the wall so that he could rest his head against it. He moved his head so that he could see the ceilings. “Mom loved dad so much.” He gave in to the urge to tap his finger against the chair. “I have this notebook I got from her. She wrote there about the future and she sounded so hopeful. There was something about the house she had looked with dad. She wanted to learn to play the piano, so she could play for her kids, and she wondered if she should learn to make cakes, so that on birthdays she wouldn’t ever have to buy one from bakeries. Apparently, they aren’t the same as homemade ones. She was thinking of keeping her business going from here, and she was going to tell dad everything. Now I’m thinking, maybe dad knew more than she thought. For god’s sake, he’s a cop, of course he notices things. She was silly in those ways.”

“So why did she leave? What happened so that you ended up like this?” Deaton spoke.

Stiles eyes connected with his, the boy looked away. "The word got around about her. It was bound to happen if you ask me. Nothing good can last for too long, no connections can be completely safe, that would be a naïve thinking,” Stiles shook his head. “She was thinking what could she possibly do? Then she found about me. She just knew. She told me how she felt how I would be just like her, just as unfortunate. She had heard from a long-time client that some people were trying to find her. She needed to protect me and my dad. Leaving was the conclusion she came to. So she disappeared, making sure for dad that it was her choice. I never found out how she made that happen. A note? Did she talk to him? Anyway, couldn’t imagine it being easy. She couldn’t tell dad about me, he wouldn’t have let her go. He would have tried to find us. He would have wanted to know.” Stiles sighed loudly as he stopped talking.

“Do you want coffee now? The offer is still there,” Deaton said calmly.

“Yes, sure,” Stiles said, realising how dry his throat felt.

The other man walked out of the room leaving Stiles alone. The boy rubbed his tired eyes. He hated this.

“Any sugar? Milk?” Stiles heard Deaton’s voice from the other room.

“Umm, black,” he gave a short answer.

Stiles reached for his phone in his pocket, it was not there. He had probably left it home or to the car. Having nothing to do with his hands was awful, so he was glad when Deaton got back and offered him a cup.

“Thanks… You didn’t go to call anyone?” he looked at Deaton distrusting. He could have gone and told Hales or anyone. The man could be one of those he had run from.

After staying quiet for a moment Deaton shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“But you thought about it.”

“Can’t deny that. I already told you, I’m Talia’s emissary.”

“Hmm,” Stiles hummed.

“So you don’t trust her,” Deaton asked this time.

“It’s not like that. It’s not about trusting or not trusting. It’s more like how I prefer things to be.”

“But you were thinking of talking to Derek Hale.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, and Deaton said to that, “As I mentioned I’m Talia’s emissary.”

“I never thought that I would say this about someone else, but she talks too much,” Stiles said a bit annoyed.

“She likes to keep the pack together. It means keeping the secrets minimum.”

“Honesty is the best policy, huh?” Stiles’ mouth twitched.

“You don’t think so?” Deaton raised his eyebrows.

“Well, that is until you realize that someone else is keeping the cards hidden,” Stiles shrugged.

Deaton sighed. “Are you ready to tell me how you become so sceptical about everything and everyone?”

“I would rather not, but here I am so what the hell.” He stared at his hands and the black liquid in the cup.

Deaton sat down to the chair across the room. It was how Stiles preferred, too.

“As I mentioned, she left with me, her unborn baby. I don’t know much about the time when I was a small, but it seems that it wasn’t so bad. She managed and was happy that she had me. We moved a lot, survived and it was fine. It was fine, until someone actually found us. I was only maybe six at that time, but they were interested in some kind of “collaboration”, as they liked to say. At that time, we didn’t have anywhere to stay, so she decided to let them offer us a place. She was thinking that maybe just a couple of nights, but then it was months and then years. It took a while until I realize what was going on, but it was when they realized that I wasn’t weak, that I found out about what kind of collaboration they had been doing. At first, it was only a small rune, tattooed on back.” Stiles brushed his hair back. “But it was never just a small rune,” Stiles faced Deaton.

“Just what were they trying to summon?”

“On my mom’s part they indeed tried, and maybe they even succeeded, but it wasn’t long after that–“ Stiles’ voice broke down slightly and he cleared his voice. “My mom was the guinea pig. She was the first try.” Stiles put the coffee cup to the floor. “But her mind couldn’t process it. She wasn’t her anymore. That was what they wanted. I mean that’s what they fucking wanted, so imagine when on one night they came to me saying that they ‘had to put her down’. I mean, who says that?” Stiles said lifelessly. “I don’t know how and when she was gone, but I think that she went away far before she died.”

“On my part, they gave me a fancy title of something like _guide_ and used me to help them with their work. It wasn’t like I wasn’t me anymore. I could still think as me and it felt like it was me, but at the same time, it was like I was sharing this body with something else. It was part of me and it made me more–“ Stiles tried to find words. “More. I did become aware of it, after some while, that it wasn’t how I wanted to be. It wasn’t how mom wanted me to be. I was so good when I was a kid, and they ruined me and it made me so angry. Anger wasn’t the right thing to feel, but it made it easier to distinguish which part of the anger was mine and which wasn’t. I had to do something, so I researched. I collected money in different ways. Mom’s books helped me a lot and they also let me remember how things had been. From couple towns away I found someone who could help me with the tattoos, for resistance purpose. As long as I paid, he did the job and stayed quiet. It took a pretty long time because the original ones weren’t something non-existent. So, just a little by little I got them done and I cleared my head. The last one I got done just a week before I came here.”

“I don’t want to rush you, but what exactly did they summon?” Deaton asked with a grave voice.

"In my case?" Stiles tilted his head, asking.

Deaton nodded.

“A fox,” Stiles smiled weakly, “just a little fox.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at me updating and all. This was more of an explaining chapter. Had to make one of these sooner or later. It's been such a long time since I started writing this fic and honestly, I need to check what I have written before so that I don't completely mess the plotline. (It can be really painful and embarrassing to look at something old that you've written. My eyes.) 
> 
> Thank you all who are still reading this. And thank you for the new readers too! Kudos, comments and booksmarks are love and they keep me going.


	20. The higher you hope, the higher you go. The further you fall, breaking your bones. It's time to let go.

“That boy, Stiles, came to talk to me just now.”

_“That’s a relief. I’ve been worried. Tell me everything.”_

“I don’t know if I should.”

_“What’s wrong?”_

“The boy might be more problematic than we thought. Also, he was very clear what his opinion was about spreading anything he tells me. But he did talk to you before. You can guess.”

_“Deaton, talk to me.”_

“Talia…”

_“You’re not afraid of a little kid?”_

“I don’t know what to be afraid of anymore.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as Stiles got home, he walked straight in to the house, dropping his phone to the kitchen counter, while passing the room and walking to the backyard through the backdoor. He kicked off the shoe from his left foot, it landed to the terrace floor. Clumsily, he pulled the other shoe off with his hands, and soon it was lying on the grey grass. Stiles stared at the early morning sky and breathed in the chilly air, shivering. He was feeling regrets. He was regretting acting like a lunatic yesterday. He was regretting pulling away from others. He was regretting for not pulling away earlier. He regretted sending those messages to Derek at night. He regretted a lot.

Stiles heard someone knocking the window. It was his dad, standing on the other side of the window, facing the backyard. He looked tired after night shift, holding a coffee mug in his hands, which meant that he was not going to rest sometimes soon. He was worried about Stiles yesterday’s behaviour, he could tell. Yeah, Stiles was regretting for being a shitty long-lost son. He was not one of those unproblematic little angels that brought you a peace to your soul. He was definitely more of an “annoy you to your grave” - kind of person. His father was probably regretting, too. Stiles would think so, if the man was not wearing such a fond expression on his face.

There Stiles was, standing on the cold grass, without shoes, not dressed warmly enough for the weather, his messy handwritten runes showing in his hands. And there was his father, giving him a small wave as a greeting before he turned away. The man did not look bothered at all. It seemed like it was just another morning, like there was nothing strange or unusual in his kid from other teenagers.

Stiles was severely coming to the conclusion, that John was not as unaware of the possible unnatural in the world as Claudia had made it sound. His mother had been such a fool, of course he would notice things. But John did not mind. He had not minded his mom, who most likely had been acting like Stiles. He knew he did not act like normal people do, he was very aware of that, he just did not know how to act in any other way. Worst thing was that he was actually starting to trust people. Trust makes you act in reckless ways. It brings trouble, takes you down. Soon you find yourself lying on cold a pavement as your blood drains to a street gutter beside you, while you think ‘oh wow, how did this happen?’, figuratively, of course. Stiles had the gift of expressive imagination, one of his many gifts that made his life harder than it needs to be, but it has saved his life before. A little paranoia never hurt nobody, so he told to himself.

But it was hurting and Stiles was regretting and he was starting to _trust_.

It was cold, his bones felt cold, but he was still breathing and not bleeding, not at the moment, at least. But he could lose this all soon. He could lose the people around him and he could lose himself. He did not know if he could run from himself then. He would lose it all, everything that was, is and could have been. Stiles had found himself becoming greedy. It was disgusting. As his last tattoo had been carved to his skin, he had decided to never feel greed again. Greed wakes the darkness, he knew it. It brings out the worst.

Stiles sat to the grass, or what was left of it because of the winter, before he curled to the ground, so that he was on his other side. That way he could stare at the lifeless plants. The boy closed his tired eyes and did what he did best, he ran. Just for a moment, he lost himself to the nature around him, forgetting his physical body of a human. And for a little while, he felt like he was not breaking.

 

* * *

 

_Stiles was a child. He was climbing the tree, moving his feet from one branch to other, reaching higher and higher in the midst of green leaves. His arms felt short, and it was hard to move forward. Still, he kept trying and trying. The tree’s bark felt warm under his fingers._

_“Stiles!” someone shouted from below._

_It was his mother._

_“Mom! Look how high I climbed! Awesome, right,” he smiled brightly._

_“Really awesome,” Claudia laughed._

_Stiles grinned._

_“I found a place we can go to,” his mother said._

_“Where? Another motel?” Stiles sat on a branch he had been standing on._

_“No,” she shook her head. “Someone asked if we wanted to stay at their place for a while. They might be able to help us.”_

_“Is it a home? A real one?” Stiles smile got even wider._

_His mom was smiling too, “For now, we just have to go. Come down.”_

_And he did._

_It was nothing but fall from there._

 

* * *

 

Stiles opened his eyes slowly, snapping out of it, out of the easy slumber. The sudden realization of the reality made him gasp harshly as he took a support from the ground with his arm. His other hand was pressed to his forehead. He noted the massive headache he was having. The throbbing pain and loud pounding noise made him feel like throwing up. His body felt stiff as he tried to get up to get settled to a sitting position.

He sighed and said, “What do you want?” before turning to look at the man sitting on the stairs of the terrace.

Derek was wearing a white long sleeved shirt, made from as thin material as Stiles’ shirt, but Stiles was pretty sure that the werewolf was not freezing like he was. He looked comfortable with such a little layering while Stiles, on the other hand, knew that he was shivering. Most likely, his skin looked like he was starting to reach to the case of hypothermia. He felt crass under his shirt, and suddenly he felt really uncomfortable, waiting for the other answer him. Derek was just sitting there, looking at Stiles, expression passive. Stiles got a sudden urge to punch him, just scrape a little that sharp featured face. Not that he could make any damage to the werewolf in this condition, and not that he wanted to hurt Derek. He just hated people trying to be careful around him.

Derek probably saw the annoyance appearing on Stiles’ face as he spoke out, “Do you feel better?”

“Better than what?” Stiles said nonchalantly as he tried standing up again. His legs were shaky but he managed somehow.

A line was forming between Derek’s eyebrows, and Stiles wanted to press his finger to smooth it out, but instead he stretched his own muscles.

Stiles cleared his voice, “No need to worry, I’m managing.” Somehow he always did.

“Don’t do this,” Derek said.

Stiles tilted his head as a gesture of showing that he had no idea what he was talking about.

“Please.”

Stiles turned his eyes away from Derek, not wanting to see the other man asking his impossible. Instead he looked down. His feet looked paler than ever. _I should really warm myself up._

Stiles straightened his back and started to walk to the house, wanting to get inside. He planned to just pass Derek by, but as he took the last step of the stairs, he felt the other man holding his wrist and stopping him from walking.

“Your hands are cold.”

“They always are, bad blood circulation,” Stiles muttered.

“No they aren’t,” Derek said with a small voice.

Stiles clenched his hand to a fist.

“Why are you like this?” Derek asked, not letting go.

“I’m always like this,” Stiles answered.

“No you're not,” Derek said his voice lucid.

Stiles turned to look at Derek. Stiles mouth was just a thin line as he opened his mouth and said, “Then you don’t know me that well.”

“Stop,” Derek’s words were sharp.

“Stop what?” Stiles asked with a humorous tone.

“Stop acting like an idiot,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

He found himself staring at Derek. Stiles blinked and narrowed his eyes.

“Stiles, please, just listen.” Derek was looking at Stile’s wrists. Stiles knew how thin they looked like, but he was not as weak as his wrists looked like. He was not going to be weak in other’s eyes. For them he would not look like a weak human, needing someone to save him. Derek should know that instead of insulting him like this.

Stiles had to stop listening. He had to get Derek to stop talking, being good or even understanding towards him. Stiles knew that he was as good as a dead man walking, and that he would not pull more bodies along with him. If the others were not smart enough to let him go, he will do it for them.

He started to pull his hand away from Derek who was still holding it. Slowly, Derek let Stiles move his hand away, but he did not lower his hand as if he would be ready to grab a hold of him, if he was starting to slip away. Stiles wanted to sink to his knees and lean to those shoulders that seemed to be ready to keep him from drowning. He wanted it so bad, but instead he turned away and walked in to the house, leaving the door open behind him. Knowing, that Derek would follow him, he walked to the kitchen. It seemed that his father had disappeared to upstairs.

Stiles sat down on the kitchen chair, waiting Derek to sit on the other side of the table. Stiles was not looking Derek sitting down, but he felt the eyes on him. Instead, Stiles stared out of the window. He kept tapping his finger against the table.

“Stiles,” he finally heard Derek say.

Stiles did not answer or meet Derek’s eyes.

“Stiles.”

He listened the other man calling his name, and all he could think was, _what did you do to me...._

Of course, Stiles had known that he had not been happy. His life was not enjoyable, neither happy or bright, he was very aware. It was just that he had his own side on Derek’s couch and that he liked listening Derek say his name. It was also that Derek said that Stiles was the most frustrating person he had met and that he still invited the younger man to watch over-length movies that Stiles keeps narrating through. And sometimes, Derek smiled and it was a really nice smile. But he hated Derek for making him realize how lonely he was.

“Is this because I’m a werewolf,” Derek sounded defeated.

“No, it doesn’t matter who you are,” Stiles said fast and with neutral words.

“ _What_.”

“Huh?” Stiles finally looked at Derek, confused.

“ _What_ I am,” Derek confirmed.

“WHO. _Who_ you are.” If he was not seeing a werewolf as a _who,_ he definitely would not be able to call himself in that way either, and he needed that, just that. He wanted to have it.

“I can’t see what's the problem then,” Derek crossed his arms.

“Me. I am the problem. Is it so hard to understand?”

“I’m no problem for you, why would you be to me?” Derek said like it would clear everything.

Stiles could have chosen many other words that would have been better, more reasoning, but what he said was, “Forget it, let it go.”

It made Derek neither happy nor satisfied.

They stood facing each other, both had their arms crossed, body language closed. Stiles realized that Derek was getting angry. The same annoyed and frustrated expression he had gotten out of Derek during their first meetings was making an appearance again. He knew that what he was going to do would rile him up even more.

“DAD!” he shouted, which startled Derek. “Come here for a sec!” Stiles stared at Derek, not making a move. He looked utterly confused.

Soon John appeared to the door. He did not look too surprised finding Derek standing in the kitchen with his son, Derek on the other hand, looked like he was ready to bail.

“This is Derek,” Stiles said, eyes not leaving Derek.

“I think we have met before. You are one of the Hales, right?” John said.

Before Derek managed say anything, Stiles continued, “Yeah, that is correct. Also, dad, did you know that Derek here is a werewolf?” He was still looking at Derek, mouth now forming a blasphemous smile as he saw Derek’s eyes widening unbelievable large. His eyes were saying something like, _You - did not just say that._

There was a quiet moment as Sheriff just hummed and said, “Is that so?” Which did not sound at all like his son had said something that he thought to be completely foolish or untruthful. Stiles could as well had said that, _Dad, did you know that Derek plays tennis enthusiastically?_ He was kind of impressed with his dad at the moment.

“Yeah, he sure is.”

“Well, I think you are the first one I have met.”

“I don’t think he is, though,” Stiles corrected. Derek looked appalled of Stiles’ actions.

John shook his head as he left the room “Nice talk, son. Derek,” he gave a nod to Derek, and he was gone.

Maybe Stiles was kind of wondering whether his dad was going to have an existential crisis, or if he was just going to pick up the newspaper page he was reading before Stiles called him. On the other hand, he was really enjoying the pissed of face that Derek was making at the moment.

“What are you even thinking?” Derek finally said his voice low. Stiles could see that he was fuming.

Stiles just shrugged, face now dropping the smile back to passive expression.

“That’s it?” Derek gritted out.

“That’s it,” Stiles answered.

“You are just a reckless child who does not know when to stop, do you?”

“I really don’t,” Stiles smiled coolly. It felt really hard to keep his breathing even.

“You really are –“

Stiles decided to stop Derek from saying anything else. He knew that he should not feel hurt by other’s words, he had been obviously begging for it with his action, but he could not handle hearing something hurtful from Derek.

“You can choose any word you like, but most likely we have heard all of them,” Stiles heard himself saying.

The word ‘we’ seemed to really do it for Derek. For the first time Stiles saw the other look him like that, like there was something truly wrong in him. He looked helpless, like he did not know how to handle Stiles anymore. Stiles’ hands were shaking, so he moved them behind them, hiding the nervous movement he could not control.

After that, Stiles was not completely sure what had happened. Most likely he had not said anything else, Derek had not said anything. The other man had left the house. Stiles was not sure whether Derek had given him one final disgusted look before he was gone, it would have seemed suitable. All he remembered after, was that his dad came to the kitchen, asking if he would like to eat something. Stiles had said no. Then he said sorry, suddenly feeling guilty for putting his dad in that position. His dad said not to worry about it. Stiles did. He went to his bedroom, stood in the middle of that very same room for a while before going to bed with his all clothes on.

He remembered the feeling of holding the branches of the tree in his hands. His legs had felt so short, as he had tried to climb higher and higher. Now, his legs were lanky, long and hard to control. Why had it happened? How had he grown so tall?

“Why did this happen?” he asked the empty dark room with a small voice.

No one answered,

thankfully.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been some time sinces I updated. That is just a fact, I have no excuses.  
> Hello all the new readers and greetings to the old ones! Thank you for still reading this.  
> This chapter's name came from Gabrielle Aplin's Letting you go. (The title is way too long but who cares. I like it.) Still trying to keep the Gabrielle Aplin song theme going on.  
> Enjoy, hopefully.


	21. This one is gonna hurt

 

 

The whole Sunday he studied, and at the same time wondered what was the point. Sure, he enjoyed it. He just could not image an ordinary academic life for himself. He might have even been good in it. Sure, he had a serious concentration problem, but it would be a least of his problems. He also had difficulties trying to picture himself in a good long-term relationship where trust would play a major key-factor. Because, yes, Derek had been the closest Stiles could call a relationship – a relationship that was not even a relationship. Friendship at the most.

Yeah, Stiles was not good in any kind of “ships”.

 

* * *

 

On Monday, Stiles did an excellent job avoiding the Hale pack. He was sneaking around the school like a freaking 007. He was doing so well until he got a call, in between the second and third class. At first, he thought it would be someone from the pack calling him, raging about being ass to Derek who had tried his best to help the ungrateful shit Stiles was.

Sure, he had some missed calls from them and some messages, but this one came from unknown number. Stiles stared at the screen of the phone as he walked outside, wanting some privacy. He knew that it could not be any good, but against his better judgement he answered.

“Who is this?” he said and leaned to the brick wall.

 _“You are making this too easy,”_ the voice said.

Stiles swallowed, “…Heath?”

_“You should have run further.”_

Stiles ended the call, letting out a shaky breath, “Fuck.”

 He brought his hand over his mouth before turning to face the wall and hit his fist against it, “FUCK!”

Some students passing by and standing at the school parking lot turned to look at him. One of them was Erica, who was standing way too far to hear anything if she did not have the supernatural hearing ability.

Stiles stormed into the School building ignoring the stares.

He kept staring at his phone for the rest of the day. Somehow, he managed to avoid everyone in the school, even though, Erica tried to talk to him after the third lesson ended. Stiles simply said, “I can’t," explained something about his locker and books and left as soon as he saw Boyd and Isaac walking towards them.

 

* * *

 

**_You ever wondered how would it feel to have your guts dug out of your body?_ **

That was the message Stiles had just opened.

His face hardened.

**_You might want to start preparing yourself._ **

That,

was what the following message told him.

He did not open the last third one.

Instead, he opened his phone from its back, pulling the battery out. Part by part, he took the phone apart. Finally, he dropped the screwdriver to the floor. He stared at the destroyed phone. Next to pits and pieces were the sim card and memory card both looking unusable.

That was when he realized that he had just made all of his contact information disappear, all of them.

“No,” he said in disbelief. “Fuck.” He picked up the memory card. There was no way getting any information out of it. Honestly, he felt like crying.

He had not had these problems before, he thought, sighing.  

 _This is good_ , he tried to tell himself. _This is just perfect_ , he thought, feeling miserable.

Stiles tried to reason how he had already made the decision to drop the contact anyway. Hales and others. It did not matter anymore.

_It does, though._

He spent the next three hours mourning the loss, then his father told him to stop moping and to come downstairs to eat the lunch he had just cooked. Stiles raised his eyebrows at the sight of the messy looking meal.

John just shrugged to the silently judging look on his son’s face.

For a first time, after what had felt like a long time, Stiles smiled honestly. He sat to the other side of the table and started to ramble about current statistics of the serial murders in New York.

“Should I be worried how much you know about this?” his father said amused.

“Maybe,” Stiles laughed.

He looked at the man on the other side of the table, and he realized.

They will kill him

The little time he had, made Stiles realized something. John would not let them take his son from him, not in front of his eyes.

John would fight, he would die and they would make it look like an accident. They could do it, Stiles had seen it. Fuck, _he_ had even done it before.

The smile faltered from his face as he took another piece of the overcooked chicken breast. He looked at the window next to him and imagined the white curtains stained with red.

 

* * *

 

It was until 10 pm that Stiles was panicking in his room.

At 11 pm he took a shower which was supposed to calm him down.

At 11:45 pm he was about to call Derek.

At 11:47 he found his phone destroyed on his table

At 12 am he tried to put it all back together.

At 1:30 am he showed the phone and its loose pieces to the floor.

At 1:36 am he decided that it would not matter.

At 2 am he packed his packs, not taking much with him. He left the laptop to the table. He would not deserve to take it with him.

At 2:30 am he walked downstairs.

Stiles put his shoes on when his father walked to the room. John’s eyes looked resigned as he saw all the stuff Stiles had next to him. Stiles held his eyes steady. The man was not going to let him leave if he would look scared and unsure. Instead, he needed to look determined.

“You are 18. I have not been much of a father to you, so I really don’t have any say. I can’t make you stay,” his father said sounding defeated.

Stiles turned away, looking at his stuff on the floor.

“But,” John said breathing heavily, “If you need anything – anything, if you want to, you can come here. I will be here, I want you to remember that, son.”

Stiles did not answer.

At 2:32 am he left.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was about to walk past a diner when he realized that he could at least drink a cup of coffee before leaving. He had not been sleeping, and he needed to be awake and figure out where to go.

 _I have nowhere to go_ , he realized. _That’s what you get from getting comfortable_ , Stiles told himself smiling sadly.

Stiles walked in. He squinted his eyes, trying to get used to the bright lights inside the diner. He sat down and ordered his coffee. He had wrecked his only phone, he did not have a computer. How the hell was he going to manage? But, he knew he could do it. He could buy a new cheap phone, he still had some money saved. Everything else he can just make up as he goes. Maybe a big city would be a right choice, a big city where no one will notice you or miss you.

“That sounds good,” he said quietly.

The thing was, it did not sound good. It sounded awful. Stiles hated it. His expression grim, he took a gulp of his coffee. A too big, apparently, as he started to cough loudly, getting the unwanted attention of the bored waitress who was cleaning the counter.

He had not checked the bus schedule before he left, but maybe he could just ask around, or just wait at the bus stop until the mornings first bus passes by. It would not even matter where he would go. Away, was good enough.

Stiles looked around the diner, remembering how he had spent time there with Derek. He had been the best Stiles never had had. Something he never could have. It is not like it could have been anything if he had stayed. Stiles was a kid. Well, technically an adult, yes, but he also had never have anyone loving him. Even if someone would want him, there is no guarantee that he could ever be what anyone wanted. He was too ashamed of everything he had been and everything he was.

Let's say, he would stay. Derek was probably pissed off about his actions. He most likely figured out what an asshole Stiles was. And even if he forgave him, he could not truly like him. Stiles had been hoping, but seriously, he was too messed up. He made fool out of himself, and he screwed everything up without even trying. A surge of self-hatred washed over Stiles and he covered his face with his hands.

_I am disgusting, so dirty and disgusting._

To his horror he realized that he was crying, his shoulders shaking slightly. He dried his tears with the napkin. His eyes burned. On side-eye he saw the waitress giving him a pitying look as Stiles was blowing his nose.

He was technically an adult. So, why was it that he had never felt this much like a child before. It was not like he was weaker than before or that had less knowledge. He was very capable of leaving, going on his own way and surviving.

Stiles thought of his father, standing behind him, watching him leave. It was not that he wanted someone to be there for him, _he_ also wanted to be there for someone. Stiles played with the thought of coming back after five or ten years, but what would happen before then, would he be even alive then? What if, he ends up like his mom? What if, he dies in some gutter in New York? What if, he does not want to come back after all those years?

 

* * *

 

Stiles had walked back to his father’s house when the clock neared 6 am. He walked straight in, dropped his stuff on the floor and started to take his shoes off. For his surprise, all the lights were still on in the house. Stiles walked first to the empty living room, then to the kitchen where his eyes met with his father’s. There was a bottle of whisky and a half empty glass on the table.

His father’s eyes were red, and Stiles knew that he did not look any better.

“Thank you,” John said.

Stiles felt his eyes stinging again, so he turned away, looking at the curtains accusingly.

He heard his father say, “I’m glad.”

Stiles wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, then he picked the bottle and glass from the table. He emptied the glass to the sink and opened some random cupboard where he shoved the bottle. After that, he picked two cups and placed them on the table. He heated water, poured it in after placing teabags into the cups.

Two remaining Stilinski’s sat at the table. They did not sleep a second on that night. Instead, they watched the dawn in the morning.

 

* * *

 

He went to the school next day, and sat on every lecture keeping his eyes on the teachers.

When Scott sat next to him on lunch break, Stiles did not walk away. He just sat there, wondering, if Scott was going to start lecturing him for being an asshole. Maybe he would ask him to leave Beacon Hills. Stiles pushed the mushy looking dish on his plate. He did not want to look up at the boy who he still thought as a friend.

“Hi,” was not what Stiles was expecting Scott to say.

It made Stiles rise his eyebrows and look up. Scott projected the gesture.

“Hi,” Stiles said and grimaced at his own voice. It sounded tired and weary.

“Rough night?” Scott asked and drank some water.

Stiles stared at his plate again. “I couldn’t leave.”

“Leave what?” Scott asked confused and took another gulp.

“I left. I was leaving Beacon Hills but I couldn’t. Instead, I came back like I had my fucking tail between my legs.”

Scott coughed and spit out some of his water. His eyes were comically wide.

“I couldn’t do it. Dad was – I could not,” Stiles shook his head.

“That’s good,” Scott manage to say.

“No, it’s not. It’s bad. Very, very bad.” Stiles stabbed a carrot with his fork.

“We don’t think so,” Scott stated.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Why are you even talking to me? Aren’t you supposed to be pissed off or something?”

“What? Why?” Scott started to eat.

“I was completely dick to Derek,” Stiles muttered.

“You were…?” Scott said confused.

“He did not do anything…say anything, anything?” Stiles tilted his head.

“No,” Scott said, “though, he had looked rather annoyed since last weekend. “Just what exactly did you do?” Scott was now the one narrowing his eyes.

Stiles reminded himself that he was not supposed to be talking with the Hale pack.

“Should I be pissed off?” Scott continued.

“Yes, you really should,” Stiles said and left the very confused Scott sitting alone at the table.

 

* * *

 

The broken phone in his room reminded him that it was not like his troubles had cleared of. Like the text had told him, he should prepare himself.

Because this, _this_ was going to hurt.

 


	22. I won't stay, but I can't leave. Some twisted sense of loyalty.

 

_John and Claudia._

 

“What’s with Derek?” Laura said sharply.

“Did you come to beat me up because I’m a jerk and an asshole?”

Stiles had been dozing off in his chair while he was trying to type down his thoughts in to his essay. It was truly an uncomfortable chair, but he could not help because the lack of sleep. He was not that surprised to find Laura climbing to his room through the window. He probably should have been more alarmed.

“Come on. You would snap in two like a twig,” Laura said not much humour in her voice, but oddly she did not sound mad either.

_Huh._

“You aren’t angry,” Stiles noted. He was doing something pointless at the same time. He did not dare to look into her sharp eyes.

“No,” Laura said. “Derek’s an adult. He’s not going to break easily. Not that I want to see someone try to do that,” She glanced at Stiles, “But just to make it clear, he will be fine. Though,” she sighed, “It seems like he has been trying to find way to make things better, whatever that would be.”

Stiles did not answer, he just stared at his laptop.

“He’s not hurt,” Laura sighed again, “he’s worried.”

“I know, I caused him trouble with my actions,” Stiles murmured.

“No,” Laura said frustrated. “He is worried for you, little twig.”

“Please, stop calling me a twig,” Stiles groaned. Then he processed what Laura was saying, “Me? But he shouldn’t…he doesn’t need to,” he said with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell that to me,” Laura said amused.

“So, he did not say anything?” Stiles sighed.

“About what,” Laura raised his eyebrows.

“I might have,” Stiles started slowly.

Laura’s eyes narrowed.

“told my dad that... Derekisawerewolf,” Stiles said not pausing between words. Then he leaned to his hands, worried his lower lip and waited Laura to react.

“You what?!” she said louder than she needed to.

“Derek wouldn’t back of!” Stiles tried to reason, it did not sound convincing even to himself.

“You are right, you are an asshole,” Laura growled.

“I am. I know,” Stiles admitted.

“What did he say?” Laura demanded.

“Derek? Not much. He just stalked out after growling a bit,” he trailed off.

“No! The sheriff!” Laura growled. ”Oh my god. You told the Sheriff, Stiles. The fucking sheriff,” Laura said terrified. “What did he say! Wait, could it be that he did not believe you? He didn’t believe you, right? That must be it!” Laura tried to handle situation apparently by rambling.

“I’m pretty sure he did,” Stiles said with a small voice.

“Oh my god.” Laura grabbed her phone.

 _Damn_ , maybe he really had screwed up for good this time, Stiles thought.

“What did he say?” Laura wanted to know while she texted. She was shaking her head, like she could not digest what Stiles was telling her.

“He said ‘Good talk, son’ or something.”

Laura answered to that, with a confused and unbelievable expression, “So he did not believe you.”

“No, I’m positive he did.” Stiles played with a pen which ink has dried out.

“Stop shitting me,” Laura muttered with a low voice, “there’s no way that someone would react to the knowledge of a werewolf population in their town with such a calm way. What is he, a freaking Buddha?”

“Well, I just told him about Derek, but he wasn’t bothered, like, at all.”

“Was not bothered- The fuck Stiles?” Laura leaned to the wall next to the window while glaring at Stiles.

Stiles had not heard Laura cursing this much before, and he did not know what to make of this newly found trait.

“I’m a freak,” Stiles said.

“Um,” Laura looked confused.

“I’m pretty sure he has some idea that I’m not completely normal either. My mom was probably never too subtle about, anything, and I, honestly, neither am I. So, that’s it."

Laura collapsed to the closest chair. She sounded exhausted, “Fucking hell.”

“Exactly,” Stiles said and finally dared to glance at Laura.

“What the fuck are you anyway?” Laura sounded exhausted. “Some kind of devil’s spawn?

“Don’t talk about my parents that way,” Stiles could not help defending his family.

“I did not mean it like that.” Laura actually sounded a bit apologetic.

“Laura,” Stiles said.

“What?” she tilted her head slightly, even though they both knew that it would not make her wolf ears hear any better, the gesture made Stiles feel like she would actually listen.

“I’m not going to tell you. I don’t want to tell you, and there’s no need to tell anyone.”

Laura just sighed at that, and it looked like she was ready to say something.

“But,” Stiles continued, “If, if by chance, I ever do something bad to your all,” he tapped his fingers against the table,“I want you to know that _I_ would never do that to you. I wouldn’t want to. I couldn’t.”

“I know, but why would you…”

“If it happens, I want you to know that it’s not me. It’s not all me. You all are so good, and it is just my own selfishness wanting to tell you this.” Stiles did not know why he wanted to explain even just a little, but he could not stop himself.

“You're talking about some kind of possession, or do you have some kind of Multiple Personality Disorder?” Laura leaned to the chair. She was looking at Stiles closely.

Stiles chuckled, “I guess.”

“Which?”

“Even I'm not sure anymore,” Stiles looked at the ceilings.

“You are such a –“ she muttered. “Annoying, that is what you are. And frustrating, and, a fool.”

“I know,” Stiles answered.

“No you don’t! What I mean is, you need to stop making such vague statements and say clearly what the hell is the problem.”

Stiles looked startled as Laura stood up.

“You ran away, why? You needed to get away from something, from who? You think that you are strange, so what is that exactly? You like us, you push us away, you talk to us, you keep apologizing and we don’t know why!”

“It’s complicated,” Stiles got up from his chair and avoided Laura’s eyes.

“Complicated,” Laura laughed. “Stiles, life is a fucking mess. It'll always be until we are six feet under.”

“I…” Stiles said shortly.

Laura took a step closer to Stiles. “Talk.”

Stiles ended up saying, “I don’t really…I’m not sure if…I–”

Laura was getting even closer, and Stiles was now watching her.

“Tell us. We need to hear it,” she said.

“I’m really not sure...” he trailed of again.

“Stiles, say something! You need to talk to us or it’s never going to work out okay!” she suddenly said loudly. “This has gone too far for too long without no one handling thing here in a right way. This is going to come and stab us in the back if we won’t deal with it.”

“Maybe we should just leave it to it then. Just an easy way out. No one will be hurt,” Stiles tried to reason hastily.

“There is no easy way out, never, and you definitely haven’t made any _easy way’s out_ with your relationship with our pack. You just come rushing into our life, and now you are part of this all.”

“I can leave or maybe I just stay out of your way. I don’t have to be part of anything.”

“Stiles, you don’t get it. You can’t just ‘stay out of a way’. This is a pack. When you are in, you are in, that’s it.”

“I,” Stiles panicked when he noticed that Laura was just in front of him and there was a solid wall behind him.

She pinned him to the wall, “You are in or you are out!”

“I-“ Stiles breathed harshly.

“In or out!” Laura pressured him.

“I’m out!” Stiles finally shouted, and their eyes met.

“You don’t have the right to say that anymore!” Laura cried out.

Stiles just stared at her, feeling even more helpless when he saw the defeated look on Laura’s face. They just stayed there for a while, both quiet, neither knowing what to say.

“Why would you let someone in your home, who you know is going to burn your house down. Why would you do that, Laura? I’m telling you, I’m going to burn it all,” he said desperately.

“You’re not going to burn our house down. Why would someone even tell that beforehand, if they'd really do it.”

“But I’m telling you it will happen, figuratively speaking, of course, but Laura, you know this can’t end well. You got to know that,” Stiles sounded breathless and angry.

“Then what can we do?” Laura demanded an answer.

“Shun me! Push me out! Let me go! Do something!” Stiles let out the words.

“Maybe I could do it, maybe most of us still could, but you know some of us can’t, not anymore. It’s too late, you know it,” Laura tried to make him understand.

“It’s not,” Stiles insisted. The expression in Laura’s face made the following words sound desperate, and something that Stiles was not believing himself, “It’s not.”

“You keep acting like you want people to give up on you, but you know what? We all see through your bullshit. Your lousy attempt to push people away doesn't fool anyone. For you it’s just a sick game to test people because deep inside you wish that people wouldn’t leave you, even though, you’re acting like it wouldn’t matter if they did. You can’t help being desperate,” Laura said.

“It’s not true,” Stiles insisted.

“No, it is, you can’t!” Laura said, sounding angry.

Stiles just shook his head, retreating further from Laura who had walked closer to him. His back hit the wall, again. Laura’s hands were suddenly on his shoulders, digging into his skin. It was not painful, but it made Stiles feel trapped. He did not want to hear more. He knew that he was always the fault, but he could not handle anymore blaming, not like this.

“Because you know why?” Laura demanded Stiles to listen.

Stiles winced, looking away from the woman. Laura’s hair looked as wild as her eyes, and Stiles could not help thinking how scary it is that there are as strong people as her in the world.

“You know why?!” Laura said even louder.

Stiles stared at his own right shoulder because he did not want to look up. He did not want to hear the hurtful words even if she had all the right to say them.

“Because you are a human,” she said her voice all broken and gentle.

It was not what he had expected to hear, and it made Stiles look her with his wide eyes.

Laura let go of Stiles shirt, letting him have some space. She backed away from Stiles to the window and sat down to the windowsill.

“Our senses are more intense, we are stronger than most, we don’t get most of the human illnesses, we are alert of the people and we might not let anyone get easily close, but when we care we love more than the most do,” she said quietly.

“We won’t leave anyone behind, Stiles. Not even you,” Laura said staring right at Stiles who was still back against the wall.

“I hate you,” Stiles complained, no real heat in his words.

“I’m saying Derek that you said hi.” Laura actually smiled before leaping out of the window.

“I hate him!” Stiles shouted behind her.

He was left behind, looking at the open window.

“I love him,” he whined as he was finally alone.

“Who do you love?” came the voice from the other side of the door.

_Or not._

Stiles turned away, startled, as John walked in.

“Mom!” Stiles said fast. “I love mom.”

They both knew very well that he had said _him_.

Sheriff sighed, “Come downstairs. We're having pizza.”

 

* * *

 

“So,” John took a bite of a pizza slice before saying, “Let’s say, hypothetically, if Hales were werewolves…”

Stiles chewed the pizza slowly, not saying a word. They were sitting in the living room, watching the reruns of The X-Files.

“Has it always been that way?”

Stiles looked as his dad. “So you guessed.”

“Well, it wasn’t far reached. Hales have always been kind of reserved. They have a good reputation, but for some reason, no one’s really gotten too close to them outside the family circle. They live near the woods with no close neighbors, and of course,” His eyes caught Stiles, “Derek Hale.”

Stiles just nodded.

“Werewolves,” Sheriff said with a thoughtful voice.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you like that,” Stiles said.

“You mean, you weren’t supposed to tell me at all,” Sheriff said with raised eyebrows.

Stiles smiled sheepishly.

“But you aren’t one?” John asked.

“No,” Stiles said fast, “I’m not.”

“But this isn't all?”

“That’s a lot of ‘buts’,” Stiles joked.

Sheriff just crossed his arms.

“No, it’s not,” he admitted grimly.

His father just hummed thoughtfully.

“You are taking this too well,” Stiles said after a while. “You’ve taken everything too well.”

John smiled to him. He looked glad that Stiles was there, sitting next to him. It still made Stiles feel sincerely surprised. 

“I’m kind of still waiting you to freak out,” Stiles admitted.

“I’m just glad that you’re here,” John said.

Stiles stopped eating and looked up. It sounded strange to actually hear him say it aloud. It made him feel a bit out of the place, and at the same time, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

“Me too,” he said to his dad, a sad smile forming to his face. “I am,” his voice waivered and he sniffed, feeling that his nose was getting stuffy and his eyes were watering slightly. _Not again_ , Stiles wiped his nose with a back of his hand and stuffed more food in his mouth.

“Gross, son,” sheriff shook his head but smiled adoringly.

“Shut up,” he almost sobbed, but there was still sharpness in his voice. Corner of his mouth was turning up.

“Stiles,” John said.

“Mmm,” he hummed with a mouth stuffed full of food.

“Give them some answers,” he said.

It made Stiles look his father.

“Don’t just leave them hanging,” he continued. “I know, that I don’t understand everything that’s going on, and I’m not even sure if I would want to know. But I know some things, which you might not get completely. I can see that there are people who care for you here, not just me.”

Stiles just listened while staring at the television screen with hollow eyes.

“They are trying,” John said, “and I’m not saying that you aren’t because I know you are. You are trying so hard, and it breaks me that I just know that I can’t help, but I want to. And I am here for you, but I think, that so are they. Scott, those people that were visiting you, Hales.”

“I know,” Stiles muttered.

“Do you?” he asked honestly. “Do you really?”

“Yes. I mean, I guess,” but he knew that his words did not sound exactly overly confident.

“I wish I could put someone behind the bars for everything that has happened. Son, I want to do something. I hate feeling helpless. I've been researching about what happened to you, and it doesn’t make sense.”

“I can’t…”

“And I get it, but I’m not happy about it,” John said.

“Sorry.” His voice had become oddly quiet.

“You don’t have to say that, just don’t quietly leave everyone behind.”

Stiles did not know what to say. He watched Scully running away from some bright light in the television.

“At this point, I might understand why you would, but they won’t. So if you go, at least talk to them, explain them first. They want to know. They need it, otherwise, they can’t let go.”

Stiles leaned to his hands, thinking.

“I don’t want to see you leave, but I understand if you go. And I feel that I don’t have the right to make you stay, but I hope that you do.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, not really trusting his voice.

“When they were visiting here and you ran outside, Scott and Derek Hale ran the stairs down after you. They did not ran outside. It was like they wanted to give you your own space, they just stood there in the backyard. Scott came soon to me with apologizing expression, saying he’s sorry. Hale just stood there, like his eyes were glued to the trees. It was an odd sigh. Just before you returned, he turned around and told Scott to get back to upstairs. Soon after, you came back with your muddy socks.”

“I wished,” John tied to find words, “that I knew what you are so scared of.” The man rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s like I’m waiting you to run off. One morning you just aren’t there, just like your mom. And you will do it so well that there’s nothing left behind, but I'll know what was here and what’s gone.”

“I…” Stiles tried.

“Don’t do it to them. You don’t have to stay here forever. I don’t know much about Hales, other than that Talia has been coming to talk to me in the grocery store more often than ever before,” he said thoughtfully, “but they seem like a good people, and Derek,” John cleared his voice little awkwardly, “he too.”

“Dad,” Stiles said.

“Yes,” John asked.

“I think I need a new phone.”

“What happened to your old one?”

“I happened to it,” Stiles winced.


	23. You’ve seen my best turn to the worst.

Stiles woke up to the quietness of his room. He felt aloof in his cold bed. Talking with Laura and with his father, the day before, had left him feeling empty. He stretched his limbs across the sheets before sitting up. Stiles sat cross legged and stared at the grey room. It also was exactly how he felt – grey. He never had figured out what to feel about the grey. The black, white – those made sense, but the middle ground left him feeling just lost. Even the clean white sheets, that had softened as he had used them, seemed like they had lost their shine.

His fingers moved along the fabric. Stiles had slept in that bed so many times that they were missing the stiffness of a just-washed cloth. It reminded him how long he had stayed there, how many times he had gone to sleep and woken up in his own bed. If this was being trapped in one place was, he never wanted to be free. He would rather lie that all is well and smother himself into the cool fabric.

Closing his eyes, the boy clung himself to the bed with his hands, squeezing the sheets. He took a breath in as he searched the wards he had set early on when he first came to this house. They were still holding strong. Stiles felt the corner of his mouth turning slightly upwards. It was gone soon, but the warmness of the ground under the house had left him feeling better even when he opened his eyes. Turning his head towards the window, he realized that he had forgotten to close the curtains last night. The daylight was streaming in.

When he took the first step, getting out of the bed, the ground felt shaky, the air was humming and Stiles, Stiles took a look of the fading runes in his hands. He made his way to the bathroom, only thinking about scrubbing the messy marks away as soon as he could. The crazy had never looked good on him anyway.  

 

* * *

 

The marks in his palms had washed out fairly good, although, the ones on the back of his hands had stuck stubbornly on to his skin. Stiles tucked the sleeves of his hoodie over his wrist. He was walking in the school yard. The rain had cleared out, but the clouds weighed heavily in the sky. He had his hood on, his shoulders were hunched. When he felt someone’s eyes on him, he turned to look and he saw Scott standing beside Jackson’s car with Allison and Jackson. Scott waved, Stiles raised his hand and smiled slightly before looking away. He could still feel the eyes on his back when he walked past the school doors.

It had come to his realization that he had no idea how to be with the Hale’s anymore. He felt even more awkward in his skin than he usually did.

_This is why I’m not good at making friends. It always comes to this. I have no idea how to act with people who have it together. If this continues the connection just naturally fades away. Mutual understanding of just letting the past be. Light greetings when we pass by, and maybe a couple of exchanged words now and then._

Stiles smiled grimly.

Suddenly, a hand gripped his arm tightly, almost painfully. Stiles turned around startled.

“Derek,” Stiles found himself mumbling.

The man was still holding his arm, but he was reaching for Stiles’ hand. When he found it, he rose it so that he could look at it. With his other hand he hovered his fingers over the lines of the faded marker marks.

“You’re coming with me,” Derek said.

“I have my classes,” Stiles said, bewildered.

“Stiles,” there was no patience in his voice.

“I can’t just skip them!” he said, sounding more agitated than he realized.

“Of course you can,” Derek said, “Let’s go.” He began to pull Stiles towards the exit.

“No,” was all he could utter.

“We both know that your attendance is not the biggest problem in your life at the moment.”  

“Well, I’d like to keep it that way then. Don’t they say something about not making a–,” the words were cut when Derek tug Stiles forward.

“Come on,” he said.

“Derek, I’m here to study. Ever heard the concept of it? It contains being at school, sitting in the class and learning, you know.”

When their eyes met, Stiles gulped. It looked like Derek was ready to drag him out of the building. Stiles was not ready to go along with that, though.

“Stiles,” Derek says with a warning voice.

In his head Stiles was thinking, I’m not going to deal with this. He felt his hands fidgeting.

“Stiles,” he repeated. Derek’s voice lowering.

“Nope,” Stiles said before taking off.

Behind him he heard Derek shouting, “Really?!”

But he was not going to stop, no-uh.

He ran through the corridor, trying to avoid bumping into every single person on his way, and he did pretty well, actually. Fortunately, he had already mapped the school into his head for casualty situations, which the one happening at that moment might as well had been counted as, although, it was not what he had imagined before. Actually, Stiles had not planned doing this at all, but here he was, sprinting to the opposite direction from Derek. For a moment, he felt like, maybe it was not that a good idea. There is no way Derek would have actually _dragged_ him somewhere, right?

But then he heard someone calling his name behind him, and the voice was getting closer, and the voice – it sounded awfully lot like Derek.

So maybe, he was coming after Stiles. Stiles, on the other hand, speeded up. There was no planning of stopping any time soon. Suddenly, he was in the cafeteria where the janitor was looking at him furiously. If they were not in the public place, Derek would have caught him in a minute, but Stiles felt that the werewolf was slowing down his pace, just so that he would not get too much attention.

Stiles was glad that he was actually pretty good at running. Still, he felt breathless as he run out of the cafeteria and entered to another corridor. He was passing some classrooms while thinking the best way to escape when he saw the chemistry classroom. Stiles hurried into the open room where the teacher was writing something to the board. Ignoring her, his eyes were glued to the open window. He leapt straight through it. He was now in the corner of the lacrosse field. He sprinted fast as he could, feeling the air burn in his lungs.

There was a loud ‘thud’, which Stiles heard, before he comprehended what had happened. Then he felt grass in his mouth. He had been shoved to the ground, and Stiles could guess who was pinning him down so that he would not escape. Weakly, he tested if he could shove off the weight that was holding him down. All he heard was a frustrated huff over himself. Stiles rested his cheek on the grass. He was still breathing heavily.

“Scott told me frantically that you were about to bail,” Derek started, “and now you just, literally, ran away from me.”

Stiles could not dignify his actions, even to himself, so he just laid there, waiting the ground to swallow him.

“What made you think you could outrun _a werewolf_?” he hissed the last word out.

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted, “It seemed like a rational idea at that moment.”

Derek just sighed. “Can I move without you catapulting away?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a raspy voice. “I think I can manage that.”

“You sure?” Now Derek was just annoying him.

“Yes, Derek, please get off me when I still have some dignity left.” Though, he was not sure if that was the case anymore.

When they were both seated to the ground, face to face, Stiles shuffled his feet close to his chest.

“I don’t want to fight,” Stiles said.

It got Derek’s attention.

“I don’t want to fight, but I don’t want to talk either. So, can we not? I wouldn’t know what to say,” he said.

He met Derek’s eyes.

“I’m-“ he stuttered with his words, “so, so tired, Derek, I’m tired.”

And Derek looked at him like he saw it. He nodded, reaching for Stiles’ hands, but this time other did nothing to get away. Derek gently opened the hands that had tightened into tight fists. He smoothened the skin with his own fingers, until Stiles’ palms were opened bare. The hands were still shaking slightly from the fading adrenaline rush. Stiles noticed that Derek was staring at his wrists, his finger lightly covering the pulse point. The faded rune marks could still be seen on that part of his skin.

“We don’t need to fight,” Derek said, “but we do have to talk at some point.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed.

He slowly let himself fell closer to Derek until his forehead was leaning to his shoulder.  

“Okay,” he repeated.

 

* * *

 

Stiles found himself standing in the middle of Derek’s apartment. It had been in the back of his head that he might never come there again, but there he was. He had been left alone right after Derek had dropped him there, giving him the key and telling that he was going to get them something to eat. That had been twenty minutes ago, and here Stiles was, not knowing what to do with the space where he had not belonged to.

When Derek got back, he furrowed his eyebrows to the sight of Stiles holding an empty beer bottle.

“I’m watering your plants,” Stiles said. “You know that they die if you don’t do it, right?” He pointed at the withering Calathea and a nearly dead Yucca plant.

Derek’s eyes were still fixed to the bottle.

“Oh, you don’t have a watering can.” He was clearly judging Derek. “I rinsed this. It works fine.”

As Derek unloaded his purchase Stiles hovered behind him, Derek had to tell him to go and sit down. They ate at the living room, side by side on the sofa. Neither put the television on so they ate in silence their shoulders brushing. After, they stayed there, leaning other. In an hour Stiles has shuffled closer to Derek, and propped his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said.

“Me too,” Derek answered.

It was a start, not much, but it felt like a good one.

 

* * *

 

It was a wonder how things had changed the next day. The morning was actually relaxing.

This time, Stiles had called his dad before deciding to stay over. Instead of curling on the sofa, they had wordlessly moved together to Derek’s bedroom. Not thinking much about it, they fell asleep next to each other. In the middle of night, Stiles had woken up to the feeling of Derek trailing his hand fingers over Stiles’ wrists. He had not even bothered to open his eyes, just burrowed his head to the pillow.

They had breakfast in ease. Stiles was sitting on the table with his coffee, complaining about Derek neglecting his house plants.

“I wasn’t even the one who bought them. It was all Laura. Said I needed them if I wanted to make the ‘factory chic’ work, whatever that is,” was all Derek said.

Stiles snorted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update, but I feel like it's kind of short.  
> I actually had to go to the beginning of this fic and just read where was I. I hadn't realized that I'd written this many chapters. Had to also face all the terrible grammar. Sorry about that, guys. I did some fast corrections, but I don't really have time to smooth it out completely. It really shows how little time I used checking my writing. Some had offered to be beta readers in the comments, but honestly, I have no schedule in writing. I feel like I'm not going to bother to make any agreements with anyone at the moment, people would just get fustrated with me for not getting things done. Even though, I know that it would be for the benefits of the readers. I'm sorry, you have to suffer.
> 
> Also, I added some mood board -kind of edits in the beginning of some chapters. Photos are not mine(!!) and I'm not claiming them to be, if not otherwise mentioned. They are just for the creating the atmosphere and so on. I just did the edits.
> 
> Thank you a lot for still reading this! You guys are so patient, it has literally been years and these two idiots still haven't gotten their shit together. Talk about a slow build fic. It has been such a long time since I started writing this, but I'm going to keep going. The comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions still brighten up my days.
> 
> The title is from the lyrics of Take me away by Gabrielle Aplin.


End file.
